


Dragonoid

by Dearing



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Drama, F/M, Gen, Mecha, Post-Apocalypse, Science Fiction, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-02-04 09:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 101,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12767805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearing/pseuds/Dearing
Summary: A Sci-fi remake of the film. It's been three hundred years, but we haven't forgotten the day the Dragonoids came. Now humanity has been reduced to a few pockets of civilisation, struggling to survive. But for the people of The Dome, the war will continue.





	1. Section 00: Prologue

**SECTION 00**

**PROLOGUE**

>>>STAND BY<<<

 

///UNIDENTIFIED OBJECTS CONFIRMED\\\\\

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

> REQUEST FRIEND OR FOE IDENTITY CODE.

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

///TIME ELAPSED\\\\\

///CODE HAS NOT BEEN SENT\\\\\

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

> ALERT DOME CONTROL: CONDITION GREEN

  /DIRECT ALERT: STOIC

  /RUN SURVEILLANCE MODULE

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

///ALERT SENT TO DOME CONTROL\\\\\

///DIRECT ALERT SENT TO CALL SIGN STOIC\\\\\

\\\\\SURVEILLANCE MODULE RUNNING///

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

> LOCK ONTO FORWARD UNIDENTIFIED OBJECT, 3 MIN.

  /START UP TRANSLATION MATRIX

  /CONFIRM FRIEND OR FOE

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

///FORWARD UNIDENTIFIED OBJECT LOCKED\\\\\

///THREE MINUTE BURST BEGUN\\\\\

\\\\\TRANSLATION MATRIX RUNNING///

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

>DISPLAY AUDIO TRANSCRIPT

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

///DISPLAYING\\\\\

\\\\\AUDIO ENGAGED///

 

_“Copaani gar_ _chaab_ _, Evaar Ruusaan?”_

(Are you scared, Youth Ruusaan?)

_“Nayc, Alor. Ni ramikadyc o’r te Ca’furor potestas.”_

(No, Superior. I’m confident in the Night Fury‘s ability.)

“ _Ni vaabir naas jare’la meyg. Ni jare’la meh gar_ chaab _,_ _Ruusaan.”_

(I didn’t ask that. I asked if you were _scared_ Ruusaan.)

_“Ah. Ni…Ee’kah Alor.”_

(Ah. I…a little Superior.)

_“Jate. Ni Mo’les gar or’dinii meh gar nu’draar. Aht ar chaab la aht kar'taylir gar copaani oyacyir.”_

(Good. I’d consider you a fool if you weren’t. To be scared is to know you are alive.)

_“Elek Alor.”_

(Yes Superior.)

_“Aht te kyrbej diende, Evaar Ruusaan.”_

(To the battlefield then, Youth Ruusaan.)

_“Aht te kyrbej, Alor.”_

(To the battlefield, Superior.)

 

///ALERT\\\\\

///DRAGONOID LANGUAGE VERIFIED\\\\\

///UNIDENTIFIED OBJECTS CLASSIFIED: FOE\\\\\

\\\\\LOCK ON BURST TERMINATED///

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

>ALERT MILITARY POLICE HEADQUARTERS

 /ALERT DOME CONTROL: CONDITION RED

 

///ALERTS SENT\\\\\

\\\\\STAND BY FOR FURTHER ORDERS///

* * *

It’s been three hundred years, but everyone knows of the day the Dragonoids came. The tales of how they descended from space on that fateful day have been passed from one generation to the next. So many were their numbers that they blotted out the sun over America’s capital. We called them the Dragonoids because of the flying mecha they used that day; their silhouettes reminding many of the European dragons of legends. While they cast this fearsome shadow, the Dragonoids broadcast a message from their ship in space: a broken message comprised of a dozen English radio transmissions that had been on Earth’s airwaves over a hundred years before. It had been a message of peace, so the President had said. And for fifty years, there was peace.    Though they communicated only with America, the Dragonoids did not attack humanity. And while the other nations of the world felt it was unfair that only the United States would deal with Earth’s visitors, there was no real conflict beyond the arguments of politicians.

        For fifty years they stayed with us. They stayed in orbit in their massive spacecraft. They never asked anything of us, aside from the request that they could stay in orbit, and humanity never asked anything of them. It was a general assumption that our hospitality would be rewarded someday. Fifty years after they arrived, in a way it was.

        No one really knows what happened _that_ day. Most believe it was a breakdown of communications between America and the Dragonoids. Some believe the Dragonoids were just taking their time, allowing humanity to get used to their presence.

        Whatever happened though, all that are left know that the Dragonoid’s starship descended from the heavens that day, and on its landing, Washington DC was crushed from existence. The years that followed was one of chaos. Within three months the United States had gone silent. By the end of the year, so had the rest of the Americas. The Dragonoids swarmed across the Earth, each nation falling one after the another. Some tried to fight back, some tried to surrender, but in the end, they all fell silent.

        Two hundred and fifty years have passed since that day. There are no nations now, only pockets of humanity dotting the globe. Some are hidden. They try to keep us off the radar as possible, eyes nervously watching the skies for any signs of those fearsome silhouettes.

        Then there’s those that don’t hide. Those that stand up and try to rebuild no matter how many times the Dragonoids try and beat us down.

        Places like my home.

        We simply call it The Dome. A massive construction of reinforced flexi-steel encapsulating a hundred and fifteen square kilometres of English countryside. Its construction was a gruelling thirty-year project, a series of fitful rushes and punishing setbacks as the Dragonoids attacked our island again and again. Only the MAF-219 Viking Assault Frames of The Dome’s Military Police kept them at bay long enough to for the project to be completed. It is the dream of many to become pilots of these seventeen-metre tall walking weapon platforms. It was because of them that two million souls live in relative safety within the Dome’s artificial haven.

        Two million people, and about a third of those are refugees, mostly from the outlying European nations. That alone should tell you how far humanity’s fallen. But we have survived, that’s the important thing. Where billions of others have died, we’ve held strong. We don’t know why the Dragonoids attack. We don’t even know why they don’t swarm us like they used too. All we know is that they keep trying to wipe us out.

        And for that…shooting down Dragonoids is everything around here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonoid language is Mando'a, the language of the Mandalorians from Star Wars as first created by Karen Traviss. It's a fairly butchered use, though. The dictionary only has just over 1200 words in it, so I often found myself making substitutes for words that didn't exist (The Dragonoid language isn't Mando'a, it's just using Mando'a as a base). I started with using Latin (which is how we end up with Ca'Furor), but towards the end, I either started taking similar meaning words and editing them for purpose, or I just made up new words altogether. If I'd started Dragonoid around now, I probably would have made up a new language altogether, maybe even use it as a base for the new language I ended up developing for one of my original novels.


	2. Section 01: Welcome to The Dome

**SECTION 01**

**WELCOME TO THE DOME**

_DATE: NOVEMBER 15, 250 A.D.E. (AFTER DRAGONOID EVENT)_

_TIME: 0014 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, WEST SECTOR FIVE, MCKRILLEN RESIDENCE_

It was the sounds of the alarm klaxons that woke me. The ever calm voice of The Dome’s central computer reminding all civilians to make their way to the nearest shelter while all available Military Police personal report for duty. And while most really wished I wasn’t, I was part of the former.

        I’m stubborn I guess, to keep working against all the annoyed looks I get, but then again most officers can say the same, so I don’t see what the problem is.

        I am Private Alexander McKrillen. Some call me Alex. Most call me by my call sign, Hiccup. Laugh it up, everyone else has, even though I’ve heard worse. It’s tradition for the newest officers to be given less than flattering call signs until they’ve proven themselves. In case the Dragonoids monitored our radio frequencies, call signs are used to try and confuse them, like our battle strategies wouldn’t do that for them. Just get out there and make sure none of the giant death spewing machines get inside The Dome.

        I was halfway into my maintenance overalls as ran out into the street, just in time for the artificial sun to blind panicked civilians clambering over each other to get to the underground shelters. You’d think we’d all be used to this by now. The Dome attracts Dragonoids like moths to a flame, mostly because every human who survives an attack wants to get in. The Mayor thinks we might be the largest human settlement left since the attacks began, but I think it’s just moral propaganda. The elections aren’t too far away after all.

_“Out of the way Hiccup!”_

        I narrowly missed the giant foot of the Viking Assault Frame as it came to a halt by the roadside, the citizens around it parting like the Red Sea as the electric blue camera gazed down at me from its elongated head. These machines were to be respected normally of course. When you pilot a seventeen-metre tall seventy-three-ton killer robot, there’s not a lot short of Dragonoid that can stop you. Each is cast in dark grey armour, capable of reaching just under a hundred and seventy miles an hour and turning on a dime thanks to the advanced yet short counterweight system that flank their shoulders. This one was taking the usual mounts, including a 430mm smoothbore cannon mounted to the right arm socket, a 77mm Recoilless rifle mounted to the left, and two launcher racks of eighteen missiles apiece mounted to each shoulder. We have some specialised units too, but this package generally gets the job done. It wasn’t the Assault Frame’s size or armament that made my throat go dry as I watched the camera dim, however. As the hatch popped open on its’ thick chest, what made me wince as I shielded my green eyes against the artificial sun in anticipation of the lecture I was about to get was the pilot that stepped out, looking none too happy from beneath his helmet’s peak.

        The head of the Military Police is hardly someone you want to see the bad side of when the Dragonoids _aren’t_ attacking, but as I heard the sounds of artillery bouncing off the artificial skies above us, I knew this moment wasn’t the best to be found running to my post, maintenance overalls half pulled over one arm.

        His call sign is Stoic for a reason. I’ve never known this giant of a man to get worked up at a Dragonoid attack, no matter how big. Now this same man was staring down at me from on high, a look of impatience on his bearded face.

        “What are you doing Hiccup?”

        “Sir!” I saluted hastily with my clothed arm, the other quickly wiggling into its proper sleeve. “Reporting to Outpost 83RK for munitions duty Sir!”

        Stoic frowned slightly, then let his shoulders slump as realisation kicked in. Sometimes our esteemed General forgets that everyone from sixteen to twenty years old belongs to the Military Police for mandatory service straight out of school. You’d think after two years he’d remember I’d been serving for as long…or he might have if he hadn’t missed the graduation ceremony.

        “Just…get to your post,” he rubbed a hand over his bearded face as two more Assault Frames lumbered by behind him, “and turn your earpiece on so we can see you! The last thing I need is to be washing you off a Viking’s foot!”

I merely saluted as his massive form ducked back into the darkness of his machine’s cockpit, my own shoulders sagging slightly as I watched him launch into a run after his comrades. As you might have guessed, I’m not exactly a welcome addition to the Military Police, but I can get into that later.

        I broke into another run as I fitted the earpiece into its proper place, jamming a baseball cap over my once neat dark brown hair to finish getting dressed. This tiny bit of technology worked both as an identification signal and a radio transmitter, allowing all officers on the battlefield to see where I was while I listened in on Combat Control directing the battle.

 _“CC, what’s on your scopes?”_ Stoic’s calm voice rumbled in my ear the moment I turned the device on.

_“Spitelout reporting Sir. Confirmed raiding party: Five Gronckles, three Nadders, three Zipplebacks and all possibly being led by a single Nightmare.”_

_“What about the Night Fury?”_

_“Dante reports he heard mention of it during the initial lock-on burst, but we haven’t seen anything yet sir.”_

_“Good.”_

        The battle was in full swing as I ducked through the Main Gate moments before it groaned shut. The air was thick with the screams of Dragonoid engines and Viking leg gears grinding, the night occasionally lit up as beams of bright orange light sliced through the sky from above and muzzle flashes of smoothbore cannons flared from below. The rattle of machine gun fire from the backup ground troops seemed to be endless as I darted between soldiers and rocket pods. A raiding party was common, especially when winter was only a half month away. With space a paramount within The Dome, farming is kept to the surrounding countryside. The agricultural and livestock plants are left to be guarded by outposts such as 83RK, but these tiny forts are only meant to buy time until the main forces from The Dome can be deployed. Armed with a few anti-aircraft guns, this armoured single storey block was the closest to The Dome, near enough to run to but far enough that I would always be out of breath by the time I got there. It was also where most of the rookie squads like mine were assigned. I guess you could call it our home away from home.

_“Ready the mass drivers. Try and locate the Nightmare first, that’ll screw up their chain of command.”_

        The duel electromagnetic catapults were firing their first salvos from the attack ring mounted halfway up The Dome’s side as I darted through the open heavy door that led into 83RK’s innards, pushing past foot soldiers on their way out from the Armoury and ignoring the irritated looks of those who I bumped into.

        “’Bout time ye showed up lad.”

I ignored the beefy soldier that grinned at me as I entered the Armoury, the memory of the look Stoic gave me beforehand urging me to just get to work as I turned the earpiece’s radio down.

        “Aww, ye run inta Stoic again?” I winced as I felt the metallic grip of artificial fingers grab my chin and force my mouth open, the blond-haired man jovially staring down my throat. “Ya didn’ talk back ta him did ya? Nope, ye cannae have, ya tongue’s still there!”

        “Ugh. With respect major,” I shoved the elder officer away with a weary smile. “Stow it.”

        My superior chuckled warmly as he went back to distributing his guns. Major Fergus Craigson, call sign Gobber, was one of those veterans of the war that had the greatest of scars and wore them proudly. Heavy synthetic limbs extended from where his left arm and right leg used to be, his barrel chest, tanned from years in the sun, covered in scars and old plasma burns that had never quite healed. But he always took it in his stride. While he rarely ventured further than the edges of the island due to his injuries, he always kept himself active within the service be it in The Dome or the nearby outposts when many others would have retired with whatever limbs they had left. While technically I’ve been assigned to Nu Squad for my tenure with the Military Police, most of my time has actually been down here under Gobber’s watchful eye, filling out magazines and making sure the rocket launchers don’t lock up. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve learnt a lot more than I make out to have, but still…

        “Well, it’s nice of ye to join us this fine Monday mornin’,” the Major laughed as he hauled a rocket launcher onto the counter, watching with mild amusement as it was snatched up moments later, “Bit worried for a moment there, thought the beasts had carried ye off somewhere.”

        “Oh yes, because I’m a real catch, I am,” I smirked as I began quickly feeding 9mm shells into magazines. “Just look at all the muscle on me, I’m a real threat.”

        “Well, they need toothpicks don’ they?”

I shook my head and continued working. The truth was no one had ever actually seen a pilot of a Dragonoid. The only humans to have possibly laid eyes on our visitors were the Americans and…well…they’re not around anymore. And like any other invisible enemy, rumours are bound to start flying, like how our enemies from outer space consider human to be the rarest of delicacies.

_“FIRE!”_

        The Armoury shuddered as something exploded nearby, my eyes darting to the security camera screen above my head of the battle outside. One of the livestock plants was ablaze, the wreckage of a downed Viking lying prone through one of its walls. One of the downsides of having hydrogen powered mechs: it takes a lot of damage, but if an Assault Frame gets hit in the wrong place it’ll go up like fireworks on bonfire night.

_“Nu Squad, we’re moving in!”_

        I let a hand go up to my earpiece as I heard _her_ voice, something aching in my chest as I scanned the battleground for a sign of…there! I smiled slightly as the military green fire truck sped onto the scene, troops no older than myself in fireproofed overalls of black and yellow jumping clear with hoses in hand before the vehicle had even stopped moving. Through the grainy footage, I could make out the chubby form of Patrick ‘Fishlegs’ Ingerman in the fire truck’s driver’s seat, his thick hands wrapped around the steering wheel tightly as he stared ahead with a terrified look on his face that he had actually gone so fast. Henrik ’Snotlout’ Jorgenson was the first to the flames, spraying water across the blaze, a winning smile plastered across his snub-nosed face and sent the way of any girl under the age of twenty that passed them by. Rita and Richie Thornston, Ruffnut and Tuffnut respectfully, the narrow faced twins from The Dome’s refugee districts, were meanwhile squabbling pathetically over one of the hoses near the truck, spraying water everywhere but the blaze itself.

        And bringing up the rear was _her_ _._ She’s the leader of Nu Squad, call sign: Valkyrie. That alone should tell you she’s a far better soldier than all of us combined. Her agile frame was a blur as she pushed past the arguing twins with hose in hand. Under her orders, the others quickly fell into line (Snotlout with a disgustingly dreamy look in his eyes), the fire out in minutes before another explosion shuddered across the land further across the battlefield. I watched quietly as she barked out orders I couldn’t hear to her squad-mates, her shoulder blade length plait whipping around her head every time she moved, calculating blue eyes glancing at the new fire every few moments from behind long blonde bangs as she urged the others back to the truck.

        Astrid Hofferson. _Sergeant_ Astrid Hofferson. The best of our class, the hardest worker…and my former best friend.

        …

        It’s complicated.

        “Not daydreamin’ again are we?”

        I glanced back at Gobber in bewilderment, only to realise I’d been sitting with a magazine and waiting bullet in my hand for the past five minutes. I gave him a sideways smile.

        “If I say no, will you let me get out there and…”

        “Oh no,” the grin disappeared from Gobber’s face in an instant. “Oh no no no no no. We’ve talked abou’ this Hiccup…”

        “Oh come on, do I have to beg?” I stood up angrily, slamming the magazine down on the table. “Just let me take a launcher and a few rockets and I’ll be back in ten minutes, fifteen tops!”

        “How many times do I have to tell ye tha’ ye just not cut out for the battlefield?” Gobber sighed sympathetically.    “Some guys are born soldiers Hiccup, and ye just weren’ ”

        “Could you at least let me try? If I shoot down a Dragonoid, my life will get infinitely better!” I threw up my hands in desperation. “I…I might even get promoted! Get a decent call sign. At the very least I might be able to get Dad to stop looking so…disappointed…” I sighed bitterly at that thought, letting my shoulders drop slightly. “A date might be good too.”

        Gobber sighed, shaking his head, “Ye just not cut out for it Lad. Ye’ve got the lowest scores on the shootin’ range, the lowest scores in the AA gun simulator…Half the time I wonder how ye’ve even got the strength to lift a bloody launcher!”

        “Hey! Cheap shot!” I scowled indignantly. “I can carry the rocket launchers,” I smirked as I pulled the tarp off a nearby stand, “Otherwise I’d never be able to carry _this_ anywhere!”

        Gobber stared down at the weapon, not even bothering to hide his scepticism. To him, at first glance it probably looked like the hundred or so other FIM-92 Stinger missile launchers we kept in stock; a long green barrel with a boxy targeting computer slung underneath before the trigger and a simple targeting scope mounted one side.

        “Doesn’ look that different ta me.” he finally grunted.

I rolled my eyes, “Of course it doesn’t look different. It’s the missile inside that’s been modified. I designed a warhead that latches onto a target and delivers a local EMP directly into the…”

        “No.”

        “What?”

        “I said no,” Gobber shook his head. “I know what ye thinking Hiccup, but I’m not lettin’ ye out onto the battlefield with sumthin’ A, ya haven’ cleared to even build with Stoic or Kingston, and B, you haven’ even tested yet!”

        “What exactly am I going to test it on?!” I gave him an exasperated look. “I can’t exactly run to Washington Crater and ask a Dragonoid to stand still!”

        “An’ tha’s me point lad,” the Major placed his synthetic hand on my shoulder. “If ye were meant ta be a soldier, ye wouldn’ even be tinkin’ of _building_ sumthin’ like this, let alone testin’ the damn thing. Soldiers fight, mechanics an’ scientists build. So if ya ever wan’ to get out there with the rest of Nu Squad ta _fight_ Dragonoids, ya just have to stop all…” he paused, his face screwed up in thought for a moment, before waving his free hand in my direction, “this.”

        I gave him a deadpan look, “You just gestured to all of me.”

        “There ya go then!” Gobber smiled brightly as he slapped me painfully on the shoulder. “A new mission objective for ya: Stop bein’ all of ya.”

        The deadpan look quickly became a sour one as the major lumbered away, chuckling at his own humour. I didn’t try to fight it though. What would be the point? As long as Gobber was watching over me, there was no chance I was going to leave the Armoury before the battle was done. I’d get my chance though. I was only eighteen, after all. I still had time before my compulsory service ran out and my Dad forced me to do something more…mundane. I knew I would get out there…someday. Because in this day and age, the war against the Dragonoids means everything. Be you Stoic or the guy that packs his groceries, if you take down a Dragonoid, no matter how you do it, you’re going to be respected for it. It’s no easy task of course; the fact most of humanity has been wiped out should tell you that much. They control the skies now, while we’re forced to fight from the ground. They also have many different kinds of Dragonoid, where we normally provide different mounts for the Vikings depending on what we need from them if we need them at all.

        Most classes of Dragonoid we refer to by a corruption of their native names, mostly because the translators don’t have a corresponding word for it in the English language. Each is designed to fill a certain role, and each performs that role with brutal efficiency.

        The Nadder is a scouting class Dragonoid. It tends to fly at the heads of raiding parties and performs hit-and-run attacks until the main force arrives to soften up defences. Taking down one of those gets you noticed by the higher-ups.

        The Gronckle class meanwhile is a slow flying general purpose Dragonoid. A combined attack from these heavily armoured workhorses has been known to destroy entire outposts in a single combined blast. I heard once three of them even managed to punch a hole through The Dome’s thick walls. You bring one of them down and suddenly half The Dome knows your name.

        The Zippleback is the Dragonoids’ main tank, dropped in by other Dragonoids. It’s equipped with two duel barrel turrets and is damn near impossible to sneak up on without getting shot at as a result. You make a crater out one of them, and your everyone’s’ hero for a few weeks.

Of course, if you shoot down a Command Dragonoid, your name is going to be on everyone’s lips for a very long time. The Ca’vercopa is one of few machines whose name we actually managed to translate: Nightmare. A name it wholeheartedly deserves. These fast yet powerful machines are usually the most deadly Dragonoid on the battlefield. Only the Military Police’s finest go after them. Mostly because they have this nasty tendency to cover themselves in burning plasma and dive-bomb our installations before unleashing hell with the twin energy cannons mounted to their backs.

        But there’s one more within their ranks that is the most coveted target. The one Dragonoid that no one has ever seen. It’s only been on the battlefield for the last five years, but it is the most dangerous of our enemies. It is never seen, it doesn’t show up on radar or thermal imagining, and if there is a target in sight, it will never miss. In the Dragonoid’s language, they call it Ca’furor. Translated, we just call it a…

_“NIGHT FURY!!!”_

        My eyes darted to another security screen just in time to see the north side mass driver explode in a fantastic ball of burning blue light, scattered support girders and other bits of debris crashing down the side of The Dome as the soldiers below ran for cover. Across the radio, I could hear the faint scream of the Fury’s engines over panicked requests for orders and fire-teams. That faint whistling noise was the only way we could identify at Night Fury attack, and even then it came a split second before something exploded. No one has ever brought down a Night Fury. Which is why I designed the Stinger and its launcher to do just that.

        If I could just get past the major…

        “Man the fort Hiccup,” I looked up in surprise as Gobber strode out of the armoury, a Javelin launcher and a rack of six missiles strapped to his back, “They’re gonna need me out there if we’ve got a Fury on our hands.”

        I watched him leave with hiked eyebrows, hardly believing my luck…until he suddenly turned back, his eyes serious.

        “Stay…put…there.”

        I gave him another deadpan look.

        “Ah, ye know what I mean.”

        I smiled faintly as my superior charged out of the Armoury. Yes, I _knew_ what he meant. Stay here and wait for the all clear.

        I counted slowly to ten to make sure he would be coming back, before grabbing my launcher and running for the exit.

* * *

_TIME: 0043 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME EXTERIOR, MAINTENANCE PLATFORM 7-C_

As the elevator rushed up The Dome’s smooth side, the sounds of battle became quieter, the ringing in my ears broken by the occasional Nadder swooping by trying to find weak spots. They all ignored the lone human on the open platform rushing along the maintenance tracks towards the mass driver attack ring. Their mistake I guessed.

        From above, I could see the battle was going in our favour anyway. Several Vikings were aflame to be sure, but I could see the burned out chassis of at least two of the Nadders, and a group of Assault Frames (most likely led by Stoic) surrounding and netting a Zippleback, its pilots ejecting into the night.

        But my target wasn’t down there. It was somewhere in the darkness of the moonless night. It had already attacked the first mass driver, so I figured the now silent second one would be fairly high on the pilot’s list of targets. Staying close, but not close enough to be hit by burning wreckage, seemed logical to me.

        I stopped the maintenance platform several levels above the ring, around a third of the way to The Dome’s peak. Across the curve of our home, the Mass Driver sat dormant and dark as I pulled the loaded launcher off my back and onto my shoulder, falling down onto one knee as I pushed up and looked down the iron sights, taking only a quick look behind me to make sure the backblast would have plenty of room. If I was right, our most powerful weapon wouldn’t be silent for much longer.

        “Come on,” I murmured under my breath. “Give me something to shoot at. Please. I’ll settle for a Nadder if I have too.”

        But I didn’t have to settle for a Nadder. Far from it in fact. As I gazed desperately out across the darkness, that faint high powered scream gradually rising above the battle below to deafening levels as a smudge of black soared across the stars. The targeting computer pinged urgently as I swung the launcher across the smudge’s path, hoping, preying the upgrade I gave the infrared tracking system within the missile would do its part.

        As the scream reached an unbearable pitch, the sound of a confirmed lock-on was accompanied by an explosion of blue light as the second mass driver met its partner’s fate. In the briefest of moments, I became the first human being to know more about a Night Fury then just the sound it makes. Its silhouette was framed against the electric blue fires of the Mass Driver for a fraction of a second, but in that brief moment I managed to make out a stocky body, long wings fanning out on either side and a pair of lethal looking cannons mounted close together to its front.

        I had one shot, however, and no time to take notes.

        The missile screeched off into the night as the booster charge gases from the launcher’s rear lit up the darkness around me. I heard the arms starting to extend for a split second before the weapon got too far away.

        A moment later, I heard the most wonderful noise: the sound of an engine dying.

        I couldn’t help but let the grin spread across my face as the sound of the Dragonoid nose-diving through the night met my ears, the silhouette streaking off across the countryside, soon lost to my eyes as it fell over the hills and out of sight.

        “I…I hit it…” I let the empty launcher fall to the platform with a clunk, my eyes wide as I slowly got to my feet. “I…YES! I HIT IT! Did anyone see that?!”

        A light burst into being above my head, the sound of a Dragonoid’s engines zapping all the joy out of the moment as I cast my green eyes upward as the flaming Nightmare came crashing through the night towards me.

        “Yeah, I was kind of hoping…you know…you wouldn’t…” I sighed wearily as I slammed down the emergency release, “You guys can’t let me have anything nice, can you?”

        My stomach tried to leap up my throat as the platform dropped down violently, the dark orange Nightmare smashing into the maintenance tracks where I had been standing moments before. Claws on each of its four limbs tried to dig into The Dome’s side, sparks flying across the metal surface as its long head turned towards me, a single glowing red camera flashing menacingly amid the flames of burning plasma.

        “Can’t you think of someone more important to shoot at?” the Nightmare turned to face me, the twin cannons mounted to its shoulders glowing with burning white energy. “Of course you don’t.”

        The Dragonoid’s attack caught the Mass Driver attack ring as the platform crashed past it, the Nightmare taking flight on a burst of fire from the jets mounted to its long rigid wings. The platform itself was rapidly gaining speed as The Dome quickly began to steepen, my cap flying off on the wind as I held onto the safety rail for dear life. Above me, the Nightmare soared up into the night before arcing over and down towards the tiny human that was currently plummeting down The Dome’s side, its cannons glowing and ready for another assault. There was no attack ring to save me this time. It was kinda laughable really. I had gone from so high to so low so quickly in more ways than one. I closed my eyes and buried my face in my arms and the safety rail, a part of me silently wondering if the platform would smash into the ground before it was incinerated by energy fire.

        A heavy thud from the ground rushing towards me brought me out of my stupor, my eyes opening in time to see a 430mm shell sail past metres away from the platform, knocking the Nightmare into The Dome with a sickening crack, one of the cannons crumpling into its wing against the flexi-steel plates while the other fired its shot harmlessly off into the sky.

        My senses quickly with the realisation I didn’t want to become a bloody mess on the concrete that surrounded The Dome, one hand blindly reaching for the brake as the Nightmare crashed past me, flames billowing from the remains of its wing as the burning plasma extinguished itself. Below, I saw the reason I was still alive; A single Viking stood in optimal firing position near The Dome, its recoilless rifle firing shell after shell at the now venerable Dragonoid, not even flinching as the Nightmare tried valiantly to escape into the night, only to be brought down by a smoothbore shot to its one remaining wing.  With nothing to hold it in the air, the Command Dragonoid smashed into the ground, its front claws scrabbling against the ground to get away before it found the Viking’s massive foot pinning it in place behind the wreckage of its once powerful cannons. As it weakly turned its head towards the Viking, the radio in my ear burst with static, a weakened yet angry voice filling all radio frequencies with a single alien word.

_“Dema…golka….”_

The Viking’s pilot replied only with a single smoothbore shell at point blank range.

        The maintenance platform’s final descent was greeted with a massive fireball of orange and yellows that completely consumed the Nightmare, black smoke billowing up into the sky as the Viking turned to face me, looking like a mechanical demon from the pits of hell wreathed in its fallen foe’s flames as those Dragonoids not captured or destroyed fled the battle at the sight of their commander’s end.

        I didn’t need to know who the pilot was as the Assault Frame lumbered towards me. I could already feel the anger and disappointment practically seeping out of the machine before the hatch had even opened.

        Because when your father is General Gregorio ‘Stoic’ McKrillen, you don’t have to look at him to know he’s less than happy with you.

        Which in my case, was most of the time.

        “Hi…Dad.” There was no point trying to impress him with proper protocol like before.

        A metallic groan from above broke the tension in the air, all eyes cast upward in alarm as several support struts of the attack ring near where the Nightmare’s assault had hit suddenly gave way, the entire rig falling down to one side with a pathetic groan followed by a resounding crunch. Suddenly aided by gravity, the flaming remains of the southern Mass Driver broke free of its moorings. All I could do was watch with a heavy wince as the great weapon crashed down the side of The Dome with a nails-against-chalkboard screech, leaving black scorch marks in its wake before slamming into the surrounding concrete…and falling over into the nearest agriculture plant.

        I let my shoulders sag as the building exploded in a wild plume of burning orange, Nu Squad joined by Eta and Serria to tackle the blaze. I could feel my father’s stony gaze on the back of my head as he let the Viking’s debarkation cable ease him to the ground. I slowly turned to face him as I heard his large feet touch the ground.

        Once again I vaguely wondered how our esteemed General managed to squeeze his six foot two muscular frame into a Viking’s cockpit, before deciding at that moment it didn’t really matter. Stoic’s dark blue eyes stared down at me as his mouth formed a thin line behind his thick brown beard. I could see a mental war going on within him as he folded his arms across his vast chest, the normally slightly loose fabric of pilot suit’s arms straining slightly against large biceps. Should he explode at his son out here, or in the privacy of his office? To be honest it wasn’t like everyone present would have seen something new. General McKrillen was known for being calm in battle, not when dealing with his son’s mistakes. I glanced back at the burning wreckage of the mass driver and the agricultural plant, before turning back to my Dad helplessly.

        “To be fair, it was on fire before the Nightmare got to it.”

        My father’s form visibly slumped as though someone had let air out of a Stoic shaped balloon.

        “Private. My office. 0830 hours,” he glanced at the modified Stinger launcher at my feet. “And bring that thing with you.”

        I winced painfully as he pushed past me to go look at the damage. I’d quickly figured out that my Dad would call me by one of my different names or rank depending on how angry he was.

        He called me Private. Trouble…didn’t quite seem to say it.

* * *

_TIME: 0835 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, MILITARY POLICE HEADQUARTERS, GENERAL MCKRILLEN’S OFFICE_

 

Stoic hadn’t said a word in five minutes. He just stared at the launcher I’d placed on his desk at his request, wearing a look somewhere between irritation and agitation.

        We were both in uniform now; long black boots, forest green trousers and a white shirt and black tie the only similarities between out clothing. As one of the lower ranks, the wraparound tunic I wore came down to around halfway up my thigh, cast in the same forest green as my trousers and accented in black along the hem and tops of the shoulders, buttons hidden from view and all held close to my thin frame by a simple black belt and buckle around my waist. Under my arm I’d placed my peaked cap, the fingers of my free hand running nervously against the gold symbol of the Military Police placed on its front (A winged five-pointed star, The Dome rising proudly over it.). My father’s own hat sat on his desk beside his meaty hands, his long heavy green coat hanging on a hook behind him; a knee-length wraparound ensemble of green and black hems and shoulders with the stars of rank stitched in, the Military Police’s symbol emblazed on the large belt that would hold it around his waist with the four gold buttons above it. Only the officers wore these coats. It was supposed to show all subordinates where their superiors were, not that my Dad needed any help in that department.

        Finally, Stoic sighed, slumping back in his large leather chair.

        “It doesn’t look any different to me.”

        I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, “Of course it’s not…” I bit back my tongue, quickly counting to ten as the General gave me a hard look. “I mean…it was the missile that was fired from it that was important sir. I designed to deliver a direct EMP blast through a Dragonoid’s armour in the hope that…”

        “Did you clear this with Gobber or one of Kingston’s men?”

        “I…no.”

        “Well, I know you didn’t clear it with me.” Stoic sighed wearily, “You know it’s against regulations to make upgrades to government property without the proper authorization…”

        “With respect sir,” I winced slightly at my father’s glare, but held my ground, “if I’d asked you to let me modify a FIM-92 Stinger missile to latch onto a Dragonoid’s fuselage and deliver an EMP burst directly to its power source in the hope that we could collect it and perhaps find something to help us get close to Washington Crater without being blown to smithereens, would you happily approve my paperwork or just tell me to go back the 83RK’s Armoury and fill up the magazines?”

        The scowl on Stoic’s face said it all as he stood up and rounded his desk, towering over me threateningly. I knew I was treading a fine line, talking to the General in such a way. If I was anyone but his own flesh and blood, the chances would be good that I would be scrubbing toilets for the rest of my compulsory service, and that would have been if I _hadn’t_ been anywhere near the mass drivers when they fell. When the General spoke, however, it was a deadly calm, as though he was viewing the whole situation the same way he saw the Dragonoid attack a few hours before.

        “You know the reason I try to keep you in the Armoury,” he said finally. “Every time Hiccup, _Every time_ we let you out onto the battlefield, disaster is sure to follow. Tonight is just a prime example of the chaos you and your damn theories cause. Because you were trying to shoot down Dragonoids with untested, un-cleared prototypes, the attack ring needs to be realigned and repaired before we can even _start_ on the Mass Drivers. And of course it doesn’t help that winter is a few weeks away, and now _I_ have to go before the Council and explain why we might have a potential food shortage on our hands.”

        I scowled darkly, “It’s not like I destroyed _every_ Agriculture plant around The Dome Dad…”

        “But you destroyed _one_ Hiccup!” I flinched as his voice rose dangerously. “And that might be one too many. You have duties assigned to you. Why can’t you just be happy with them and ride out your damn compulsory service in peace?”

        “Gee Dad, I don’t know,” I threw up my arms in exasperation. “Maybe it’s because I’m the only one of my Squad whose been locked in the Armoury with no one but Gobber to trade insults with for the last two years? Maybe I’m tired of watching Snotlout prance about the battlefield with a hosepipe looking like he’s in the middle of a shampoo commercial while I sit there loading mags with bullets that probably won’t even penetrate a Dragonoid’s armour in the first place? Or maybe…maybe I just looked up at my Dad when I just came up to his knees and said, ‘When I grow up, I want to kill Dragonoids just like him’, and now I feel kind of betrayed because he keeps stuffing me in a dark room where I can’t even prove myself to him!”

        Stoic watched me calmly as I exploded in his face. This obviously wasn’t the first time, nor did I expect it to be the last. But I was tired, it was early, and these little ‘conversations’ we had usually finished the same way anyway. Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand across his bearded face.

        “You’re a lot of things, Alex,” he said quietly, “But you have to face facts. You’re not a soldier, and when your compulsory service is up, you know I’m not going to recommend a renewal.”

        I let my shoulders slump, the tiredness of the morning overtaking me again, “Yeah, I know…sir.”

        “Good. I’m confiscating the launcher. I’m also putting you on a three-day suspension until it can be decided exactly how much of the attack ring’s destabilisation was actually your fault. Until then, you're dismissed.”

        “Sir.” I snapped to attention, saluting his back as he turned to his desk. He didn’t return it. He didn’t even say a word as I turned stiffly around and headed for the door.

* * *

“So…how did it go?”

        I glanced up as I closed the glass-paned door behind me, my eyebrows hiking up in surprise at the sight of Fishlegs shifting uncomfortably in the plastic chairs set outside the General’s office, fiddling with the brim of his hat. Patrick was one of those funny ‘sometimes-friends’. The kind of guy who you would generally get along with as long as there was no one cooler around. He was…podgy, someone who had never really lost his puppy fat, even though he stood a good few inches taller than me, his uniform ever so slightly too small. He was intelligent though, a photographic memory apparently. I’d never found a Dragonoid statistic that Fishlegs couldn’t repeat straight from the database off the top of his mousey brown-haired head. Like Gobber, he was the closest I had to a proper friend, and I was generally glad to see him.

        “As…well as to be expected,” I sighed as I fitted my cap over my head. “We talked, he looked disappointed…you know,” I smiled tiredly as the portly corporal quickly stood up to follow me, “Same old, same old. So what brought you up here?”

        Fishlegs trotted after me uncomfortably, his small grey eyes darting to junctions of the corridor in case Snotlout or the twins might be hiding behind them.

        “Actually Hofferson sent me,” I glanced back at Astrid’s name. “She err…wanted me to ask the General if your reprimand would be going on the Squad’s record.”

        “Oh. Of course she did,” I let my shoulders slump again as we reached the elevator at the end of the hallway. Within the Military Police, your squad was supposed to be everything. You were rewarded together, and punished together unless the crime itself was particularly horrendous. As squad leader, it didn’t surprise me Astrid would want to make sure my mistakes didn’t reflect on _her_ team. Of course, after two years I was surprised my Dad even considered me a part of Nu Squad, let alone my former friend.

        “Is she mad?”

        “Is she ever when you…be you?”

        I smiled slightly at Patrick’s attempt at humour as the glass doors opened for us. The only time Astrid was mad at me since she became Squad Leader was when my screw ups directly involved her. Most of the time she just gave me a look of disdain, or not even a glance at all.

        I sighed as I entered the empty car, pressing my forehead against the glass wall as Fishlegs pressed the button for the ground floor.

        Central Tower was the tallest building within The Dome. A beautiful construct of glass and steel over two hundred floors high, it looked like some had just taken a pinch of the earth and pulled it upwards, a wide base gradually narrowing to a tip surrounded by a large observation deck from which the entire city could be seen. It was here that most government agencies kept their headquarters, including the Military Police and its sub-agencies such as the Department of Intelligence and the Military Engineering Bureau. Most of the Tower was dedicated to The Dome Council though. Within the reinforced core, the bureaucrats and other such officials made their money running the city. The Council Chamber itself was a reinforced dome embedded in the Tower’s floor where those that represented the people, the Police and everyone in-between gathered to present problems, strategies in the war and so on to the Mayor and those that followed her lead.

        As the elevator descended, I gazed out at the lights of the city below. Most of the taller buildings were congregated towards The Dome’s centre, gradually becoming smaller until you were left with the suburban and refugee districts that lined the edges of our home. The artificial sun above was at morning light now. People below would be getting up, getting ready for another day, most likely watching or reading the news about my latest screw up. It would probably be a small piece, maybe at the bottom of page seven or about five stories after the Mayor’s latest press release on the TV.

        “So…what happened up there?”

        I glanced back at Fishlegs, who looked away under my gaze and fiddling with his hat brim in his hands again. I turned back to the window, watching the city slowly rise up towards me.

“I was testing…something. Something I thought would help.”

        “Again?” I turned back to glare at Patrick, who visibly recoiled. “Sorry! I didn’t mean…I mean what I meant was…”

        “No, forget it,” I shook my head wearily. “It doesn’t matter either way. Dad didn’t ‘agree’ with my assumption.” I chuckled grimly. “I can’t remember the last time we agreed on anything I do. No matter how hard I try, the most I ever seem to get out of his is a disappointed scowl…like someone just gave him a bread sandwich,” I twisted around angrily, putting on an incredibly bad impression of our esteemed General. “Excuse me, Waiter, but what kind of business are you trying to run here!? I believe I ordered an extra-large offspring, preferably male, with beefy arms and guts and glory on the side! This thing here is a talking salad!”

        “I’m sure he can’t really think of you that way,” Fishlegs spoke quietly, afraid I’d glare at him again. “I mean you’re his son right?”

        “Sometimes I wonder,” I folded my arms across my chest irritably. “I’m nothing like him, Pat. No matter how hard I try to imitate or impress him, nothing works.”

        “Maybe…you’re trying too hard to be something your not?”

I regarded my friend quietly, wondering if the irony of Fishlegs of all people telling me this was lost on him.

        “Maybe I am,” I sighed at last, “but who _am_ I supposed to be? I’m the son of the Military Police’s highest ranking and most honoured soldier Pat. I wanted to follow in his footsteps from the moment I was old enough to realise who he was. I just…want him to be proud of me, and the only way I can do that is by getting out there and taking out Dragonoids.”

        The rest of the elevator ride went down in silence. No one came or entered the car, and in no time at all it was gradually slowing down as the ground floor neared.

“You can tell Astri…Hofferson I’ll make sure Dad doesn’t shell out any blame to the rest of Nu Squad,” I turned to face Fishlegs as we came to a halt. “He probably won’t anyway, but maybe it’ll reassure her or something.”

        “Okay,” Fishlegs didn’t seem too comforted at my promise, but he nodded all the same. “I’ll…try and keep Snotlout and the twins off your back. Can’t make much of a promise for how long though.”

        I smiled tiredly as the glass doors opened out onto the Tower’s Main Lobby, patting my friend gingerly on the shoulder in thanks and farewell before heading out into the first crowds of the day. I had no doubt Snotlout and the twins would probably hunt me down for a little verbal sport, but if I was lucky, I might not run into any of them before the end of the day anyway. Dad had given me a three-day suspension after all, and I knew the Stinger had hit the Night Fury. Combine those two facts together, and I had something to do for a while, something that might actually benefit The Dome and maybe even end this war once and for all. I’d like to see Dad look disappointed after that.

        With that thought in mind, I adjusted my hat determinately and made my way out of the lobby.

        First Stop: Outpost 83RK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations:
> 
> "Dema…golka…."  
> (Monster)  
> Note: Full word is demagolka.
> 
> Author Notes:
> 
> In case you were wondering, Characters ages and appearance would probably be akin to how they are in 'Dragons: Race to the Edge'. No teenage attempts at beards here though (they're in the military after all), and any characters who sport amazing facial hair in the films and series have had a cut closer to the jawline (So think less Stoick length and more Leonidas length.)
> 
> Fishlegs friendship with Alex is a callback to the original series of books. I always got the impression that the two of them might have been friends before the film, but Fishlegs was accepted for whatever reason by the 'cooler' vikings and didn't want to be seen as hanging around a 'loser' like Hiccup, so I thought I'd add this idea into the story.
> 
> Alex's 'complicated' relationship with Astrid comes from my thoughts as to why Astrid ignored him in the film. In HTYD, Hiccup just seems to crush on her big time, and the first time they really speak on screen is about half an hour in (aside from a comment that Hiccup was never around). Don't get me wrong, Astrid never seemed to be the kind of person to bully Hiccup like Snotlout and the twins, but the way she just ignored him made me think there was more behind the cold shoulder then simply thinking Hiccup was weird.


	3. Section 02: Shifting Moods

**SECTION 02**

**SHIFTING MOODS**

_DATE: NOVEMBER 15, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1034 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, DOME COUNCIL CHAMBER_

In the five years that she had sat at the head of the Dome Council, Mayor Miranda Gothi had never partially liked the Council Chamber.

        A grand room to be sure; a cavernous room of grand pillars and massive arches of finest (yet recycled) marble housed within the massive reinforced dome embedded into the bottom of Central Tower. It was here that representatives of The Dome’s various areas and organisations would congregate to discuss matters that involved them at the home they served. Tier upon tier of balconies rose upward and outward from the centre like the rings of a tree cut in half. Each was segmented off to give each representative his or her own private space as they brought their objectives forward. _This_ was the reason Miranda disliked the place. Most council sessions would dissolve into shouting contests between the various parties. All wanted to have their voices heard and all wanted their own way over their neighbours and allies. The Mayor and the eleven other members of her administration seated at a grand half-moon table of oak before the Representatives were there to try and ensure each of the parties had their say, hear arguments for and against their policies and eventually make the ruling decision on whether to approve or deny their requests. Their word was law, their decisions final.

        At least…that was what usually happened. For today was one of those not so rare days when a single topic was on everyone’s lips. A day when shouts of anger were united as one and echoed up into the Council Chamber’s vaulted ceiling.

        It was always the same for every session held after a Dragonoid attack.

        “That the Military Police allowed the mass drivers and attack ring to be destroyed is intolerable!”

        “We won’t be able to conduct repairs until the new year. Can we rely on the Vikings to defend us from any major attacks?”

        “What about the food supplies? How big an impact will the loss of the agriculture and livestock plants be to The Dome with winter just around the corner?”

        Miranda closed her eyes, blotting out the sounds of voices over voices as she steeped her long fingers on the table before her. She was used to this sort of thing of course. She had spent most of her life surrounded by politicians along with their agendas and accusations. Her father had been a man of predominance within Dome society, just as his father had before him. To rub shoulders with Representatives of the Dome Council had almost been an everyday affair for her during her childhood, and even more so when she joined their ranks as a junior official not twenty years before.

        Now she as she entered her mid-forties, _she_ was the one everyone wanted to talk too, the centre of attention.

The stress of the job was taking its toll, however; her black hair was streaked with steel grey, the first few wrinkles starting to show on her dark caramel skin. That wasn’t to say she was getting weak, by any means. When she stood from her chair, the entire Assembly went quiet as she adjusted the jacket of her pale grey suit and smoothed the wrinkles from her matching dress. Miranda Gothi after was someone all respected, and when she spoke, all would listen.

        “The raid on the farmlands surrounding The Dome is indeed troublesome, but while we have lost several agriculture and livestock plants, I may remind the Council that the loss of such handfuls of facilities will not force us to scavenge from the nearby forests or promote the need for rationing. The loss of the mass drivers is also regrettable, but The Dome has stood on this ground for over a hundred and thirty years, and even I remember a time when the attack ring did not encircle us. We will survive, as we always do.”

        “But is survival really all we can do Your Ladyship?”

Miranda felt her icy blue eyes narrow slightly as she watched a large familiar form stride down the main aisle towards the Council table. To say she rarely saw eye to eye with General Gregorio McKrillen would be putting it far too nicely. He was too aggressive in her opinion, constantly determined to find a way to get through the defences of Washington Crater and wipe out however many Dragonoids it took to get there. Miranda, on the other hand, wanted to focus on rebuilding humanity. The war had been going on for too long, and she knew the citizens of The Dome were as tired of the constant Dragonoid attacks as she was. Her goals were to find a peaceful end to the conflict, someway to end the violence and focus on returning humankind to its former glory. It seemed sad to her that most of those tired citizens would prefer Stoic’s way to hers.

        “It has been two hundred and fifty years since this war began General McKrillen,” she spoke coldly as the bear of a man stopped before the table. “The fact we’ve survived this long proves we’re at least fairly good at it.”

        “But only because we are _forced_ to survive Your Ladyship, as I have told you many times,” the General smiled tightly behind his beard, before turning to face the Council. “For two hundred and fifty years ago, humanity numbered in billions. Two hundred and fifty years ago, we thrived across the globe, all kinds of nations, people and traditions. Now we may be all that’s left of that history. Now our citizens scurry into bunkers while my men and women defend our small borders from those vermin’s attacks. Our days go by in fear, wondering when alarm bells might sound and the sound of alien engines fills the skies. This war has been going on for too long now, we all know that. But it can only end one of two ways. Either we finish them, or they finish us!”

        A rumble of approval echoed across the Chamber, Miranda’s heart sinking slightly with it.

        “What do you propose we do General?” she asked softly.

        “In Washington Crater lies the warship, the Dragonoid’s base of operations and the place where this wretched conflict began,” Stoic turned back to the Mayor, though his voice still boomed across the vast Council Chamber. “If we destroy their home, the Dragonoids will become disorganised and the monsters will easier to take down. Our only problem is getting there. Kingston?”

        Gothi glanced to the balconies as a single amber light lit up in the darkness. With a weary sigh, she indicated to it as she slowly sat down.

        “The Dome Council recognises Colonel Ernest Kingston, Representative of the Military Engineering Bureau.”

        The light turned green as several spotlights lit up youthful officer approaching his mid-thirties, his dark blond hair pushed back in a single wave that contrasted slightly with his tanned skin.

        “Representatives of The Dome,” he spoke aloud, his light Afrikaans accent carrying across the Chamber, “as you are no doubt aware, this is not the first time General McKrillen has brought this proposal before The Dome Council, neither is he the first to propose it at all. The Military Police has tried on numerous occasions since The Dome was first completed to try and reach Washington Crater and end this war once and for all. Our past attempts have failed before they have even begun, however, due to the interception of our fleets before they can even see America on the horizon,” he touched a console before him, a small emitter rising from the Council Table to project a three dimensional map of England, North America and the Atlantic Ocean. “Recent reports from our colleagues in the Department of Intelligence, however, may have shed some light on the problem. We believe that the Dragonoids have set a network of surveillance devices under the Atlantic and across North America. They detect our fleets before they’ve even reached halfway across the sea and deploy Dragonoid squads to decimate our forces. Taking into account trajectories we’ve gathered from past expeditions, we believe the Dragonoids have a base of operations to deal with such excursions here, on the southernmost tip of Greenland,” the map zoomed into the snow-covered landmass. “Both the Bureau and Intelligence believe that a base here may be directly connected to the surveillance network. The Bureau also believes if access can be gained this outpost, we can alter the network and secure safe passage for any future fleets to Washington Crater.”

        “Therefore, my operation plan is this,” Stoic continued as Kingston returned to his seat, “I will take one _Cerberus_ class mobile fortress and two Assault Frame transporters to Greenland to take this outpost out before the Winter sets in. The Military Engineering Bureau believe it may have a way to get a small enough force through the network without setting anything off. Before the year is out, we will destroy any Dragonoid presence there and make the Network safe for a larger fleet to invade the Crater once the thaws come. If all goes well,” he turned back to Miranda, “this time next year we could be celebrating the events that led to this war’s end and tasting a life of freedom for the first time in two and a half centuries.”

        As the rumble of approval turned into shouts of agreement, The Dome’s Mayor could only smile thinly.

        “ _If_ everything goes well General. If.”

* * *

“Well, tha’ seemed ta go well.”

        Stoic glanced at Gobber as he trudged out of the Council Chamber, the cyborg smiling pleasantly as he watched the other Representatives go by. The General was too tired to deal with his friend’s humour. Miranda Gothi had something of a…draining effect on him.

        “The Council approved the operation,” he grunted as he strode across the entrance lobby, the major quickly on his tail. “We leave first thing tomorrow.”

        “Great, I’ll pack me undies…”

        “No,” the General shook his head, turning to his surprised friend. “When we go on the offensive, we’re going to need every experienced pilot we have. I need you to stay here and train up some of the squads on the Vikings…in case we fail.”

        “Oh. Tha’s wonderful, tha’ is,” Gobber’s form slumped slightly as Stoic approached one of the benches that lined the elegant foyer. “Shall I give Alex command of 83RK while ye gone too? Just think of all the wonderful things ‘e could do with a few blocks o’ C4, a couple o’ Stinger missiles and the four AA guns! What could possibly go wrong?”

        Stoic sighed, the bench creaking under his weight as he slumped down and held his head in a hand. His mind was still on the argument he’d had with his son barely a few hours before. Military protocol told him the measures that needed to be taken. If it had been any other soldier under his command, he would know exactly what needed to be done.

        But because it was Alex…

        He sighed bitterly, “What am I going to do with him, Gus?”

        The answer came after only a moment’s pause.

        “We need Viking pilots don’ we?”

        The General slowly raised his eyes to his friend’s, Gobber not even flinching under the hardened gaze.

        “I _really_ hope that was a joke major. I’m not laughing either way.”

        “I’m not laughin’ either,” Craigson folded his arms stubbornly across his chest. “I don’ see what the problem is. He wants to pilot, an’ we _need_ the pilots. Everybody wins!”

        “Accept _he’ll_ be dead before you let him near the training arena!” the General stood up angrily. “That boy…he’s just like his mother. Always dreaming, always wanting to explore, always so…different,” he felt a lump develop in his throat, memories of his wife floating to the surface of his mind. He blocked them out. “And he never listens to a word I say. Half the time I feel like I’m just banging my head against the side of The Dome when I talk to him!”

        “Ooh, shouldn’ do that. Ye’ll get a mighty headache.”

        “I _already_ have a mighty headache,” Stoic scowled as Gobber chuckled, “It has two legs and a troublesome personality. Gus, Alex is trying to be something he isn’t. He’s not like you and me. He’s not even like…that Ingerman kid! At least _that_ lad will follow orders, Alex just does what he thinks will help, and ends up destroying something!”

        “Which is why we need ta train him,” Gobber set his good hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Gregorio, I know ya tryin’ to protect him, but e’s not a little kid anymore. An’ for the next three years, e’s gonna be one of ye men as well as ye boy. If we’re lucky, maybe ye right. Maybe the war ’ll be over by next Spring. But if ye not right, e’s gonna need some preparation. Ye not gonna be around forever, and ye cannae keep him locked up forever either. Chances are good e’s gonna get out again,” he smiled wryly. “Chances are good e’s out there now.”

* * *

_TIME: 1107 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, FIVE KLICKS SOUTHEAST OF DOME TERRITORY_

In 89 A.D.E., When the construction of The Dome first got underway, a call went out across the British Isles for the remaining settlements to come together. The message was clear; unite what was left of humanity under a single banner, rebuild our civilisation and drive away the Dragonoid menace. Response was slow in the first few years. Memories of the major cities like London being blown away in a matter of hours were still fresh in many peoples’ minds, held there by the elderly who had lived to see it happen. Most of the settlements that remained were small villages and towns largely ignored by the major attacks, most likely due to their small populations presenting insignificant threats to the Dragonoids themselves. But as the years went by, and those that protected the construction site proved they could hold the aliens at bay, more and more people joined the project. As The Dome neared completion in 119 A.D.E., most of the Isles’ citizens had congregated under our single metal roof. The villages and towns that had once held so many people now lay deserted, slowly crumbling into ruins as nature slowly reclaimed the land.

        One of these villages lay not too far from The Dome’s security parameter, its name forgotten by time. Being so close to the construction site, it was no surprise to anyone that its citizens were the some of the first to leave their homes behind for the safety of greater numbers. Located in a shallow valley on top of a fairly steep hill, it had managed to escape the war by simply being out of the way and generally unnoticeable. It seemed sad that it had just been left to rot after keep its people safe for so long. Both the forest that had covered the rise above the village and the clusters of trees that sat along roads and between fields had long since expanded themselves out between the houses. The concrete roads had become split and fractured as two and a half centuries of weathering and decay allowed tufts of grass to poke through. The homes that had once housed families now played host to local wildlife, their innards stripped of everything useful, leaving empty carcasses to be swallowed up by mother nature. Exactly how long it had been since humans had lived here became even more apparent when you looked at the remains of the local church near the northern entrance.

        It might have been a nice building once upon a time. It was a simple structure, a flat-topped tower at one end with small nave big enough for the village’s congregation, narrowing into the choir area before sloping up towards where the High Altar might have once stood. The forest had long since reclaimed the land surrounding the building, tall trees poking their branches through stained glass windows of saints whose names many people had forgotten. Its innards had been stripped of anything worth salvaging when the village’s citizens had moved on. From the Altar to the pews to the front door, all that was left was the barren stone hall, a few young saplings beginning to poke their way through the open floor towards the sunlight that shone through the collapsed roof above.

        I sighed as I surveyed the decaying building, before turning to the small map in my hand and crossing off another potential landing site. I’d spent the last few hours doing much of the same; travelling around the area I believed the Night Fury might have landed in on a ‘borrowed’ motorcycle, searching potential sites and crossing each one off with greater and greater disappointment.

        “God must really hate me,” I muttered aloud as I left the ruin, returning the map to the inner pocket of my tunic. “Some people lose their car keys or reading glasses. Not me though, I only go and lose an entire Dragonoid!” I paused for a moment, “And now I’m talking to myself. Great. Like my Dad doesn’t think I’m crazy…enough…”

        I trailed off as I rounded the edge of the church. There was something…off about the trees on this side, away from the road. Something had…splintered them. Almost all of them had had what little leaves they had left stripped from their branches. Most, however, had had their tops taken clean off, the smell of damp smouldering wood hanging in the air. It was almost as though something had…crashed through here recently.

        My heart thumping loudly in my chest, I followed the carnage down with my eyes, a nervous hand going for the pistol at my side as I took in the vicarage at the eastern end of the graveyard…or rather what was left of it.

        Something… _big_ had smashed into it. The house itself was barely standing. Half of it was actually missing, completely blown away by whatever had flown through it, giving me an interesting cross-section of old bathroom plumbing and the last owner’s bad taste in living room wallpaper. I gingerly stepped into the ruin, taking care to watch out for any sign that what remained of the vicarage might come crashing down around me. Beyond the wrecked walls, a large overgrown garden sloped gently down the hill towards a river that wriggled its way through the village and out into the valley. Younger trees had planted their roots here, the forest beginning to merge with a cluster of evergreens that had once separated the vicarage from next door’s fields across the river. Some would never have the chance to given fully grow though, thanks to having been burnt to a crisp or simply squashed back into the dirt by the machine that lay halfway on its side at the bottom of the garden at the end of a long deep trench of its own making.

        “I…I don’t believe it.”

        It had to be _it_. I _knew_ it had to be it. My modified stinger missile was still firmly clamped against the onyx armour, long spindly claws holding the device in place, a small blue light above the nose telling me the EMP was still active, sapping the energy from the machine it clung to.

        Not just a machine. A Dragonoid. A Dragonoid no human eye had ever seen before.

        Ca’furor. Night Fury.

        My pistol still raised (for all the good it would do me), I hesitantly approached the fallen mech. It was definitely the same Dragonoid I saw last night. I recognised the stocky body, the long segmented wings and the lethal cannons mounted to the top of the mech and extending out like a long neck. The design was…different compared to other Dragonoids in the database though. A lot of aesthetics seemed to be missing or reduced compared to other models. There were no limbs, for example, just a long aerodynamic, elongated plate with three landing plates extending from the metal (two sweeping back and a third sweeping forward) that came to a point far out in front of the mech, the eight metre long cannons above a few metres longer. The tails of other Dragonoids was replaced with a simple fin, upright like a plane’s, the rear filled up with two large powerful engines, no doubt the reason why the Fury was the most elusive and unknown of our enemy’s machines. The head had also been greatly simplified; just a long flat extension mounted under cannons, a pair of machine guns and a single forward facing camera mounted into a point at the front. The cannons themselves were impressive of course; thin yet powerful eight-metre long energy weapons that had given the Fury such an infamous record. A closer look revealed some unusual additions, however; a pair cruciform swords had apparently been attached to the outside of each cannon, their hilts and sheaths as black as the armour they were attached to. The only reason I could see for them was decoration, perhaps a threat to anyone who actually managed to see the Dragonoid. The only other weapon was what appeared to be a long-range cannon mounted to the left-hand side under the wing, complete with an auxiliary sight that I presumed allowed for greater accuracy. I found it odd there wasn’t one on the other side, but could only assume it had been broken off during the landing.

        But I didn’t care how strange or unusual the Dragonoid was. I couldn’t have cared less if it had eight legs and could sing opera as long it was of Dragonoid creation. What mattered was the Dragonoid before me was downed _by_ me. This Dragonoid, considered the most advanced humanity had ever encountered, had been shot down by the soldier no one thought I could be. I couldn’t help but grin as I let a hand run across the rough plates of the Fury’s armour.

        “I knew it,” I murmured quietly. “I just…I knew I’d hit it! This fixes everything!” I peered between the landing plate and the main body. “Dad’s never going to believe this, but I did it. Now, how do I get in…ah! Here we go.”

        Holstering my weapon, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face as my free hand found the emergency release; a small lever hidden beside what appeared to be the entry hatch. It took only three pumps before the hatch reluctantly gave way, opening up to the darkness beyond with an angry hiss.

        Apprehension slowly took over me as I peered into the gloom, one hand resting on my pistol while the other fished a small torch from my belt. It suddenly dawned on me that I had no idea what I would find inside. There was no sign that the pilot had ejected. Was it alive? Dead? Maybe it was unconscious. Maybe it was waiting for some gullible idiot to pull the emergency release, giving it a chance to escape.

I suddenly felt incredibly stupid as I ducked inside and flashed the narrow beam of light into the darkness.

        The first thing I noticed was the cramped cockpit was of a duel-seated design; one chair slightly raised above the other, and both facing towards the front of the machine with the entry hatch opening just before the first seat. A trio of screens surrounded each chair, giving each pilot a one-eighty degrees view of the world outside. All the controls looked identical for both chairs too. The same two control sticks, the same number of switches and consoles, the same number of screens and so on. Everything was dark now though, the power lost thanks to the EMP generator attached to its side. I shone the light up the rear wall, surprise flitting through my mind as I noticed the orb embedded at the top of the cockpit was also dark. It was well documented that all Dragonoids were equipped with an Artificial Intelligence to assist in the mech’s operations. Also, when a pilot ejected, the A.I. would wipe the memory core of anything that might help the enemy in the war (Dragonoid schematics, troop movements, ways of reaching Washington Crater without being atomised, etc), before taking over basic functions and turning the mech it operated into a mindless yet aggressive beast that usually served to distract us while the pilot escaped with its fellows.

I’d never considered that the EMP might have been powerful enough to reach the A.I.’s personal power core, but the fact the orb was as dark as the rest of the cockpit concerned me for a moment.

        But I quickly put it out my mind. I had other things to worry about.

        Slowly, I turned my attention to the pilots themselves. The name Dragonoid was something that came about from the silhouette of the mechs they piloted rather than from the biology of the species itself. Very few had actually seen a Dragonoid pilot up close and personal. We never found out if they made direct contact with the American government, and what glimpses anyone from The Dome saw were usually of them fleeing as they ejected from their machines.

        I had a feeling some people from The Dome Science Academy might be interested in what I’d brought down.

        Both pilots were humanoid, both possibly taller than even my father as best I could judge, their long thin bodies encased in loose black jumpsuits, held to their frames by smooth armoured plate around the torso and neck, wrists and knee length boots. No skin was left uncovered, even their heads were encased in large helmets with tinted visors connected to a life support system mounted on their backs via a pair of small pipes that wound their way from the front along the bottom of the headpiece.

        The pilot in the front seat was clearly dead, its’ head snapped at a grotesque angle, a light red substance oozing from where the seal between helmet and armour had been broken. Even though it was my enemy, I felt decidedly sick the longer I looked at the body. When humans think of the Dragonoids, we think of the monstrous mechs that attack our homes and make our lives miserable. It was quite easy to forget that just like the Vikings, there was something alive inside the armour.

        I shook my head bitterly. It didn’t matter though. Alive or not, this alien had played a part in the war. It was a part of a species that had killed billions of humans during this conflict. That this alien was dead only meant there was one less Dragonoid pilot out there to worry about. Even though I thought this, however, seeing the corpse didn’t make me feel any better.

        I turned the light on the co-pilot, propping myself against the top of the pilot’s chair. The body lay slumped in its chair, hands lying limply over the armrests, its head resting against a nearby bulkhead with a spider web of cracks along its visor. The same light red substance was dribbled slowly from a gash in the alien’s left arm, blood I realised now. Aside from this, I couldn’t tell if the body was alive or dead. Armoured plate covered the normal places I’d look for a pulse, and the chest piece combined with the darkness made it hard to see if the co-pilot was breathing or not.

        If I could just get the helmet off…

Setting the torch on top of the co-pilot’s main screen, I slowly reached for the bottom of the helmet, my pistol ready in my free hand.

        “Let’s see if you’re just playing…”

        “Demagolka!”

        I cried out in alarm as long gloved fingers wrapped themselves around my lower arm, the co-pilot’s high voice shrieking in my ears as the body seemed to come alive, fighting against the safety harness I was so glad it was wearing.

        “Let go of me!”

        “Demagolka! Demagolka!”

        “LET GO!”

        I smashed the butt of the pistol into the pilot’s visor, the creature giving a surprised cry as the glass smashed inward, releasing its grasp and sending me staggering back into a bulkhead. Even though I was seeing stars, I held the pistol firm, bracing myself against the cockpit’s side and aiming through the fractured visor.

        “Enough!”

        The co-pilot froze, acutely aware of the weapon in front of it. In the dim light of the torch, I could see my attack had punched a decent sized hole in the visor, just enough to make out bone-white skin and an eye set just deep enough into the skull to be noticeable. The eye itself was an iris of emerald green surrounded by white, split from top to bottom by a narrow black slit of a pupil. At least I knew it wasn’t of this world…unless it was a highly evolved cat. The co-pilot stared at me for a moment more, its breathing coming out in heavy pants as its free hand clung to its wounded arm. Suddenly the single eye I could see noticed the corpse of its comrade behind me.

        “Alor…” it moaned quietly, “Gar…gar kyrayc te Alor…”

        I frowned agitatedly. The Dragonoid’s language wasn’t exactly something we were taught as in school. We didn’t have portable translators or even a Dragonoid to English dictionary. The thought that a human being and a Dragonoid alien would ever speak face to face was unfathomable to most of us. It was clear who it was talking about though.

        “I think you should worry more about yourself than your friend,” the co-pilot snapped back to me as I spoke coldly. “At least _it’s_ dead, but don’t worry, you’re not going to be around much longer either.”

        The eye watched me carefully, a studying gaze I didn’t like.

        “Copaani gar…chaab?”

        “Don’t try and talk your way out of it!” I bared my teeth angrily. “This is for every failure I’ve had to endure, every death you’ve caused in battle, I…I’m going to kill you,”

        The co-pilot’s unblinking stare was stirring something inside me. The more we held each other’s gaze, the more hollow this victory felt. I tried to shake the feeling off.

        “I’m going to kill you. Do you understand?” my gun-wielding hand was shaking, to the point I had to reinforce it. “I’m going to kill you, and take your corpse back to The Dome. Then everyone will see I am a soldier. I AM A SOLDIER GOD DAMMIT!”

        The co-pilot continued to watch me, standing before it with both hands shaking, trying to keep my gun shooting straight.

        “Ni vaabir’naas…copaanir ramaanar.”

        “SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!” I couldn’t help but scream, “STOP STARING AT ME!” I tried to will my finger to pull the trigger. It felt like I was throwing all my strength into one simple movement, but no matter how hard I tried, my hand refused to obey. That eye…what was this beast doing to me? This should be so easy! After everything Dragonoids have done, why had it suddenly become so hard to shoot one pathetic pilot? “WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE ALIVE!? WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE JUST DIED ON IMPACT!? WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?!”

        The co-pilot watched me only for a moment more, before turning its head away, its eyes closed.

        “Ni…chaab Alor.”

        I felt my hands go slack. My anger, my fear…every just seemed to go numb. I let my gun-wielding hand fall to my side, the pistol falling to the floor with a clatter as I rubbed a hand over my face.

        “Like a mirror,” I muttered into my palm. “Just like a damn mirror. That’s…that’s just not fair.”

        I felt my knees buckle as the realisation sunk in, my body falling to the metallic deck space beside the chairs as my hands rubbed the cold sweat from my face. I felt the Dragonoid pilot’s eyes on me again.

        “I…can’t do it,” I looked up at it miserably. “I did all this. I came so far. And I can’t do it. I can’t kill you. I don’t…want to kill you. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

        I let my head fall forward against the edge of the co-pilot’s seat with a heavy thump. I suddenly felt so…drained. Everyone was right about me. My Dad, Gobber, Astrid and my squad. They could all see what I couldn’t. I was no soldier. I wasn’t like them. I was…  
        My mind went blank as I felt something push against my head, my hat falling to the floor as I felt long fingers sift through my dark hair.

        “Aht ar chaab…la aht kar'taylir gar copaani oyacyir.”

        I looked up at into the face of my enemy, but to try and understand it was impossible with only one eye to go by. Its words sounded…comforting somehow. Like it was trying to console me somehow.

        I sighed again, letting a surprising wave of calmness wash over me. So I wasn’t a soldier. Dad was probably going to be ecstatic.

        Slowly I got to my feet, my hands groping around in the dark for my hat and pistol as I did so. The co-pilot’s hand fell away as I got to my full height, but I could feel it watching me as I holstered the weapon and set my hat back on my head. Now I was at a loss as to what I could do now. I had a downed Dragonoid and a live pilot to deal with. My first thought was to deploy a beacon from the cycle and just wait for someone to find me, but for some reason this idea made me feel hollow inside. Then I considered just leaving and pretending I’d never found the Fury, but the thought of leaving the downed mech and its pilot to the elements, where the chances were good it might die of its injuries made me feel even sicker.

        Which left option three.

        Picking up the torch, I shook my head as I turned away from the bemused alien.

        “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

* * *

“Oh yeah…I built this thing… _way_ too well.”

        For the past five minutes, the vicarage garden had been filled with the sounds of rock against metal as I pounded the legs that held the EMP stinger missile in place. Basic training had told me while building the device that Dragonoids had the horrible ability to recharge their power supplies within a short space of time. A constant EM field was, therefore, necessary to keep a mech down. With this in mind, I’d designed the stinger’s legs to hold the missile in place until the Night Fury could be properly secured. The last thing I really wanted was the damn thing falling off during transport, potentially letting loose one of the most powerful Dragonoid’s ever seen in a bestial A.I. controlled from inside The Dome.

        Right now though, I wish I’d been a bit more stupid. The legs themselves weren’t even really what I was trying to reach.

        With sweat trickling down my face, I let a grin spread as one of the legs finally gave way, the limb spitting sparks angrily as I pulled it away from the main body, giving me access to the thing I actually needed to destroy.

        “Six months of planning and building…all put to waste because I’m not the person I want to be,” I panted heavily, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “I should have just listened to Dad…It would’ve…saved me a _whole_ lot of exercise.”

        Throwing all my weight into one final blow, I smashed the rock down against the main body of my precious device, the blue light winking out with a pathetic whimper as the casing cracked under the assault.

        As the EMP died, the Night Fury began to thrum with energy. I gave it about ten seconds before it reached a decent strength, after which I expected the co-pilot to just go back to Washington Crater and do whatever it was supposed to do. My Dad was going to kill me if he ever found out, but as far as I could see, this was the only way for me to clear my conscious. After all, it was my stinger that brought down the Fury and killed her…Alor (Was that a name or a rank?). I let it live and go home, maybe it would let me do the same.

        That was my last thought…before a hand almost squashed me.

        My surprised cry was lost in the sound of moving gears as fists extended from what I’d thought to be afterburners, large metal fingers, the biggest easily my father’s height crushing dead leaves and soil as it hoisted the Fury’s frame upward. From the rear, those large powerful engines extended out and down, rotating a complete one hundred and eighty degrees as the ends flatted into feet the size of Humvees. As the Dragonoid slowly pushed itself up onto those feet, the cannons separated further and arced almost gracefully over the top of the machine to now point towards the ground, the segmented wings folding into one another until they resembled those of angels I’d seen in pictures. Large shoulder blades extended outward and locked into place as the Fury’s hands left pulled the plate from its front, holding it on its arm to form an aerodynamic shield, the right hand pulling the long-range cannon from its mount to form something I could only describe as a mecha-sized assault rifle. Finally, as the pointed plate sunk between the shoulder blades, one last transformation rotated into view; a long thin pointed humanoid head, vents on its ‘cheeks’ melding into the vulcan energy cannons on either side, parallel with its thin dark green visor. The whole transformation had taken less than thirty seconds. If it had been at full power, I had no doubt it would probably have done it in a quarter of that time.

        I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even move. It had to be at least eighteen metres tall, towering over the trees as its yellow eyes surveyed the countryside around it.

        Then the Fury turned its gaze to me…and raised the rifle to aim my way.

        “No…no…” I stumbled back, my feet tripping over the discarded rock that had liberated the Dragonoid as I stared down the rifle’s barrel. “Y…you can’t…I…”

        The Night Fury continued to stare down at me as I struggled to form sentences. Had it all just been a trick? A ploy to get me to remove the EMP? A hundred different thoughts and memories flashed through my mind as I tried to press myself into the dirt, the Fury’s green visor burning bright.

_“Vaabir naas shekemir ni…lenedat.”_

        Something roared, but no light burst forth from the rifle as I’d expected. From the thrusters on its back, I shielded my eyes as the Dragonoid turned Humanoid rose up into the air, trees and bits of building flying everywhere as the mech screamed into the sky.

        I…I was alive. I’d just looked down the barrel of an energy rifle and I was alive…

        And I suddenly felt faint…

        Oh dear…

        I collapsed back onto the dirt, the world going black as my eyes rolled up into my head.

* * *

_DATE: JULY 7 th, 239 A.D.E._

_TIME: 2308 HOURS_

_LOCATION: DOME OUTSKIRTS_

 

“Where do you think they‘re from?”

        “Who?”

        Astrid didn’t look at me. Her dark blue eyes fixed on the stars above the tree line. I still wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to drag me out here in the middle of the night. I remembered a warm hand in mine and a pretty smile…I guess when you’re seven that’s all it really took. So here we were, the cool metal side of The Dome against our backs with nothing but the moon and the stars above to light our way.

        “The Dragonoids,” my friend hugged her knees to her chest. “Which star do you think they’re from?”

        I frowned, turning my gaze to the inky blackness, a trillion points of light shining softly back at me. They…all looked the same to me.

        “What does it matter where they came from?” I replied huffily, not wanting to look stupid. “They’re here now, aren’t they?”

        “I just wonder what they were like before they got here,” the girl shrugged. “I mean, were they this aggressive at home? Did they just attack each other until there was only one faction left?”

        “My Dad says they were always like that.”

        “Your Dad’s a colonel in the Military Police.” Astrid gave me a sideways smirk, her pigtails flopping to one side. “He’s _supposed_ to say things like that. We don’t know though. If they really were like this before, why did they wait fifty years to attack us?”

        I frowned quietly. I wanted to tell her my Dad’s theory about how the Dragonoids were just letting humanity get used to us, but I thought she’d just remind me he was a Colonel again.

        “What can we do though?” I asked instead. “They keep attacking us, and we have to fight back.”

        “What if we didn’t fight back?”

        “We’d be dead.”

        “No, I mean like what Miss Gothi and _my_ Dad says,” Astrid sighed impatiently. “What if we just tried to talk to them?”

        “It’s kinda hard to talk to someone when their shooting at you.”

        “I guess so,” she nodded thoughtfully. “But what if we tried to talk to them _before_ they started shooting though? What if asked them why they were shooting us in the first place?”

        I paused, tapping a single finger against my chin.

        “We’d have to talk _really_ quickly.”

        Astrid laughed, and I felt a fluttering in my stomach as she did so, “I guess so. My Dad’s really confident though. We have the technology to do basic translations of Dragonoid language. If he gets into office next year, he’s going to work on a way to send a message to Washington Crater. He and Miss Gothi say they’re going to find out why the Dragonoids attacked us. Maybe this was all just a big mistake or…”

        Her thought was lost as the wail of alarm bells sounded from one of the far off outposts. I stood up slowly as the noise grew louder, more and more Outposts joining the noise until 83RK sounded just a mile or two away.

        “Dragonoid attack,” I stated the obvious as The Dome itself seemed to answer her outlying installations with an equally mournful note. I turned back to Astrid as she cast a wary gaze towards the horizon, offering her a hand. “Come on, we should get back inside before our parents…”

* * *

“Wake up!”

        Something hard and encased in leather smacked me across the face, my eyes seeing stars as I returned to the world of the living. I was still in the Vicarage garden I realised, my back wet from lying on the damp soil, bits of leaf and twig clinging to my hair.

        “…Ow…” I rubbed my jaw sourly as I looked up at my attacker, “I’m pretty sure that constitutes as physical abuse…Ma’am.”

        Astrid smirked down at me, adjusting her driving gloves with an air of satisfaction.

        “No witnesses private, and rank hath its privileges.”

        I merely scowled as I brushed the foliage from my head and clothes. Just like her call sign, Astrid’s rank was proof of how well she had adapted to serving with the Military Police. She had changed so much, and I’d long ago decided it wasn’t for the better.

        “What are you doing out here?” I asked hotly.

        “I could ask you the same thing,” the smirk disappeared as I stood up. “You’ve been off the radar for over two hours. The only reason I found you is because you didn‘t turn off your bike‘s IFF…”

        “I am allowed to disappear for a few hours when I‘m off duty…”

        “Not when General McKrillen is looking for you, you don‘t.”

        “Oh.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t realise I was supposed to be confined to The Dome this time.”

        “You’re not. Your suspension has been lifted.” Something tightened in Astrid’s jaw as though she disapproved of something. “The general _apparently_ feels that it was the Night Fury’s attack that did the most damage to the attack ring, the Nightmare just sent it over the edge…as it were.”

        “So…he’s says it’s only _partly_ my fault?”

        The sergeant scowled, “Obviously.”

        I winced slightly under her gaze. Clearly my superior didn’t agree, but wasn’t going to argue the point if it potentially meant a black mark on her squad’s record.

        “So what were you doing out here?” I felt my heart quicken in panic as Astrid turned to look at the destruction the Night Fury had brought to the overgrown garden. “Looks like something exploded. I better not find any C-4 missing from 83RK’s armoury…”

        “No, it wasn’t anything like that,” I replied hurriedly, trying to act calm. “I…last night I thought I saw a Dragonoid go down near here. I decided to use my free time to see if I could find it. When I got here though…” I smiled sheepishly, “I kind of…fell over a rock.”

        It was a half-truth really. Everything happened, with just a few missing facts to cover up the fact I’d let one of our most advanced foes fly off over the horizon. Astrid didn’t look back at me as she touched the ion blasted ground where the Fury had taken off, her eyes thankfully overlooking the large footprints in the ground, now half covered by dead leaves and twigs blown in from the wind.

        “Well, something was here, but its gone now,” the sergeant sighed as she stood up, not noticing my shoulders slump in relief behind her. “Shame. If it survived a crash like this, we might have been able to have salvaged something if you’d gotten here sooner,” she smirked over her shoulder. “You might have actually done something right for once.”

        “Thank you…Ma’am.”

        “Alright, enough dawdling.” evidently my sarcasm wasn’t helpful as the smirk once again disappeared, my sergeant pushing past me towards the church as she spoke. “Get your ass back to The Dome Hiccup. You know how the General gets if you’re late.”

        I didn’t reply, not until she was over the crest of the hill and I heard her motorcycle roar to life and take her away from me.

        “By your command…Astrid.”

* * *

_TIME: 1243 HOURS_

_LOCATION:_   _THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, MILITARY POLICE HEADQUARTERS, GENERAL MCKRILLEN’S OFFICE_

 

“You wanted to see me…General?”

        “Ah,  Alex! Come in, come in.”

        I couldn’t help but feel slightly worried as my Dad waved me in, what appeared to be an attempt at an easy smile plastered on his face. Either it was my birthday and no one told me, or my ever loving father was about to tell me something I wasn’t going to like.

        “As…Sergeant Hofferson said you wanted to see me.”

        “Yes. Yes I did,” Stoic actually stood up as he indicated to the chair before his desk. Now I was slightly scared. “I erm…I was thinking about what we…discussed this morning.”

        “Oh…right,” I winced slightly as I lowered myself into the small leather chair. “That’s…that’s good actually. I’ve been thinking about…what _you_ said and…” I trailed off as Stoic gave me a surprised look, “…but…you’re the general, so I guess you should go first.”

        “Alright,” I watched uneasily as my Dad walked around the edge of his desk, an ominous creaking coming from the legs as he lent up against the edge of it. “Recently it has come to my attention that you lack certain…attributes that other soldiers have,” he glanced at me, taking in my disbelieving gaze. His shoulders slumped. “Alright, I’ve _always_ known you lack certain attributes the other soldiers have. However _recently_ , I’ve come to believe this might be more to do with a lack of training rather than you simply being…you.”

        “Thanks…I guess.”

        Stoic ignored me, “So, I’ve decided to do something about it. You want to be a soldier, fine. You and Nu Squad have been selected for the Assault Frame training program.”

        My heart stopped. My mouth went dry.

        “Oh,” was all I could say.

        “You’re speechless,” my father laughed. “First time for everything.”

        “Yeah, there’s a reason for that.” I cleared my throat, trying to shake myself out of stupor as I fiddled with the brim of my hat. “Dad…some things…happened while I was out today, and I realised you were right. You were _all_ right. I’m just not cut out for the Military Police. I can’t…couldn’t kill a Dragonoid even if you knelt one before me and put a pistol in my hand…”

        “Damn. I was too hard on you earlier wasn’t I?” to watch the muscular mass that was my Dad fret over whether or not he’d been a bad parent this morning might have been amusing had the situation been different. “No son, I was wrong. You’ve always wanted to kill Dragonoids, and I was wrong to try and stop what was obviously a natural urge” he smiled comfortingly as he set a heavy hand on my shoulder, “and now I’m giving you the best way to do it.”

        “Dad, I really think putting me in a seventy-ton war machine is a _really_ bad idea…”

        “And I disagree.” I flinched as my father’s voice took a cold tone. “From this point forward, you are going to train to be the best soldier you can. When you wear that uniform, you represent all those that wear it, all those that protect The Dome and her citizens. That means you walk like us, talk like us, _think_ like us. And as a Viking pilot, you will finally be able to lose all of…” he waved a hand in my direction, “this.”

        “You just gestured to all of me!”

        The General ignored my indignant look, “Training begins at 0800 hours on the 22nd. Before then you need to get fitted for a pilot suit and read up on the training manual. Train hard son,” his voice grew soft, his hand patting me good-naturedly on the shoulder as he went to grab his coat. “I’m going out on an operation into the Atlantic. I’ll be back just after Christmas if all goes well.”

        “That’s…great Dad,” I sighed as I slumped down in the chair in resignation. “I might even be here to welcome you back…if all goes well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAGONOID TRANSLATIONS
> 
> "Demagolka!"  
> (Monster!)
> 
> "Demagolka! Demagolka!"  
> (Monster! Monster!)
> 
> "Alor…Gar…gar kyrayc te Alor…"  
> (Superior….you you killed the Superior)
> 
> "Copaani gar…chaab?"  
> (Are you…afraid?)
> 
> "Ni vaabir'naas…copaanir ramaanar."  
> (I don't…want to die.)  
> Note: Want and to both use the same word for some reason. Rather than repeat myself, Dragonoids just uses the word once when saying 'want to'
> 
> "Ni…chaab Alor."  
> (I'm…afraid Superior.)
> 
> "Aht ar chaab…la aht kar'tayl gar copaani oyacyir."  
> (To be scared…is to know you are alive.)
> 
> "Vaabir naas shekemir ni, lenedat."  
> (Do not follow me, target.)  
> Note: the use of target is to emphasise the speaker won't hesitate to kill.
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> First, some info on the Viking I should have added to the previous chapter.
> 
> The Viking's main inspiration is the vertical tanks from the original Steel Battalion game (the one with the massive controller, not the one with the cruddy motion controls), specifically the M7 Decider (google Steel Battalion Decider and you should have a general idea). Think less mobile suit and more walking turret or anti-aircraft battery. Part of the backstory is that the Dragonoids have control of the skies, so Humans developed assault frames as a way to move powerful weaponry to where it was needed on the battlefield. The Viking has no flight capabilities, but does have self righting jets should the mech fall over, which also gives it fast strafing capabilities. It is capable of running at 170 miles an hour in a straight line.
> 
> Onto today's chapter.
> 
> Of all the Dragonoids and characters I had to design, the equivalent for Toothless was probably the hardest. The Night Fury was always going to be a Dragonoid (the mech, not the alien), but this led to the problem that I couldn't use even half the bonding scenes between Toothless and Hiccup from the film because Toothless was now a giant robot and last I checked, mobile suit sized machines very rarely start acting like cats/dogs/horses etc. in any other anime I've ever seen. That was my thinking until Horizon: Zero Dawn came along anyway. If I'd started writing around when that game had been announced or released, Dragonoid might have been a whole different fanfic.
> 
> Anyway, Toothless' role has been split into two main halves; The Night Fury Dragonoid itself make up main body, and the personality...well, that I'll explain next week. Aside from Toothless providing the basic outline for the machine, the Night Fury's design took most of its inspiration from the Vent Saviour Gundam of Gundam SEED Destiny VS ASTRAY, which gave me a good example of a transformation sequence that was simple and relatively easy to describe (compared to other transformable mechs like the Zeta Gundam or the battlroid fighters from the Macross series.). The wings however were inspired by those found on the Freedom Gundam of Gundam Seed. I experimented with something that looked like Toothless' wings, but the only way I could make them work was if they had some kind of fabric between them, and that felt a little too…archaic for a futuristic alien race. Lastly, the humanoid head itself is loosely inspired by the Delta Plus' head from the Gundam Unicorn novels and OVA.
> 
> I can't remember the reason I gave the Night Fury a Humanoid mode. From a writing perspective, I think it was just because I found writing the battle sequences easier when I had a humanoid body to work with, but I can't remember what the in-universe reason was. Sorry.


	4. Section 03: Second Contact

**SECTION 03**

**SECOND CONTACT**

_DATE: NOVEMBER 16, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0751 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, EAST SECTOR SEVEN, MOBILE FORTRESS HARBOUR, DOCKING PORT THREE_

I wasn't surprised to find the Harbour in organised chaos. All around me, men and women were hurriedly running about, going through last minute checks and loading of supplies of the mobile fortress that sat in the docking port, the sounds of shouted orders and forklifts mingling with the mechanical groans of the six Vikings as their pilots loaded them into the boxy Assault Frame Transports, three to a craft.

I sighed as I gazed up at the large war-craft that overshadowed everything around it. The mobile fortresses themselves were a pride of the Military Police; a massive warship-like hovercraft capable of travelling across both land and sea. The  _Cerberus_ class was the smaller of the two classes currently employed. Like the twenty-two other fortresses of her type, the CMF _Dauntless_ was an irregular L shape, two hundred and three metres in length and weighing in at around 22,500 metric tons. She was designed primarily as a destroyer and escort for the larger  _Saint George_ class dreadnoughts; a pair of double-barrelled 16" turrets, each sixty-six feet long, mounted to each side of the vessels island providing the primary heavy fire while a third was mounted behind to provide additional support to the rear. Other armaments mounted to various parts of this behemoth of engineering included fourteen AA batteries, seven surface-to-air missile launchers and a medium sized hanger to the rear of the craft with enough room to house five additional Viking Assault Frames. They had been designed with the intention of forcing their way onto American soil to create a proper foothold for the larger fortresses to make their landing, so you can imagine it was fairly ironic that most had never left their berths, let alone ventured out into the sea itself.

I sighed again as I slumped onto a bench near one of the gangways, tired of being pushed around or shoved to one side by people with actual jobs to do. I was worried, I wouldn't deny that. Sure my Dad and I didn't always get along, but I didn't want to see him on the MIA list…or even the KIA list. Nearby, the last few soldiers were saying goodbye to their families and loved ones. Several of my squad mates were here. I watched Fishlegs as he hugged his dad, then tried to stop a dark smirk from spreading across my face as Snotlout burst dramatically into tears, his father hesitantly trying to keep him quiet while his mother watched on in resignation. I felt a bit guilty for grinning though. No mission beyond the Isles' shores had ever come back without casualties of some kind. I couldn't see Astrid, but then again I really had no reason too.

A shadow passed over me, and I looked up to see the stern features of my own dad. Stoic stared down at me quietly, looking half surprised that I'd even shown up to see him off. Truth be told I was a little surprised myself, even though I'd come down to the harbour every time the General had left The Dome since I had been able to walk on my own two feet. I wasn't expecting any tearful goodbyes or heartfelt hugs though. General McKrillen was not about to get sappy in front of his men after all, not even for his own son. The fact our conversation last night was still weighing on our minds probably wasn't helping the situation.

"I'll be back," he finally said, turning to face the  _Dauntless_ , "probably."

Did he always have to be so dramatic?

"And I'll be here," I replied wearily as I stood up from the bench, "maybe."

That was about as close as I was going to get to a goodbye. At least when Gobber went off with him I got a cuff around the shoulder from my Superior, maybe a joke about his undies (don't ask).

Speaking of which…

"Is tha' it?" the Major lumbered up to the two of us with a disbelieving look. "The two of ye just gonna stand there 'til ya ship off?"

"Probably," we both replied simultaneously.

Gobber sighed, rubbing an undamaged hand across his face and muttering curses under his breath. He turned to Stoic with a tight smile.

"Alex would no doubt like ta tell ye that 'e'll miss ye, an' wishes tha' ye'll take out tha' god-f'saken Dragonoid installation, so ye can ease up a bit an' stop taken ye frustrations out on everyone, namely ye poor best friend Gus," he looked to me for confirmation. I shrugged nonchalantly. He gave me a nonplussed look before continuing to me. "Ye Dad would probably like ta thank ye for ye concern, an' would like ta add he'll miss ya too. So train hard, don' throw a house party, an' e'll do 'is best not ta become a smouldering crater on a Greenlandic beach somewhere."

"We're soldiers," Stoic muttered, just loud enough to be heard. "It's an occupational hazard."

"We're soldiers," Gobber grinned, glad to have gotten a reaction from someone. "It's an occupational hazard!"

"I said that part."

"Oh," the grin was quickly replaced with a scowl as Stoic headed towards the gangway, "Well ex _cuse_  me for tryin' ta help, princess."

The general ignored his friend, preferring to give me one last piercing stare. Finally, he turned to Gobber, "I want him back in one piece, understand?"

He didn't even wait for a reply. All I could do was watch as he strode up the gangplank, the  _Dauntless_  thrumming with energy as the large harbour doors yawned open ahead.

"Don' worry about it lad," I felt the heavy synthetic hand on my shoulder as I watched the fortress and its transports leave. "E'll be alright."

I shook my head as I pushed past the Major.

"To be honest," I replied grimly, "it's not him I'm worried about."

* * *

_DATE: NOVEMBER 22, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0803 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY ASSAULT FRAME TRAINING ARENA_

"Welcome to AF Training lads an' lasses."

I adjusted the pilot suit's chest plate for the hundredth time as I lagged behind the rest of Nu Squad who strode eagerly into the Arena, my shoulders already aching from what was supposed to be lightweight armour. The dark green jumpsuit itself was fine; loose enough to be comfortable and held to the body by black fingerless driving gloves, mid-calf boots and a belt around the middle. It was the armour that was annoying me; a solid plate of onyx that extended over my upper chest, back and shoulders, as well as a matching helmet that encapsulated everything down to the neck, save for my face and chin and incorporated the radio headset into its structure. When you'd spent most of your military career in uniforms and maintenance overalls, wearing armour of any kind felt alien to me, even if it was padded on the inside.

The others seemed to be taking it in their stride. Astrid took the lead, walking purposefully towards where Gobber stood in the centre of the Arena. Snotlout was just behind her, helmet under his arm, the usual arrogant grin on his face as he tried to walk as coolly as he could in front of his sergeant. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were next, for once more interested in their surroundings then knocking each others' brains out, with Fishlegs trailing just behind, close enough to be a seen as part of the group, but far enough from me to tell everyone he wasn't with me.

The Arena itself was a fairly large complex around a half-hour drive from The Dome, nestled in the nearby forests so as to be kept an unassuming target. As its name suggested, its primary purpose was for the training of Assault Frame pilots, and as such had enough room for six Vikings to move about in various tactical scenarios. It was a massive hall that encapsulated you within concrete and steel, the mech sized doors at either end leading off to the Assault Frame hangers making me feel rather small as we approached the centre.

"I hope I get some serious plasma burns!" I heard Tuffnut proclaim eagerly as he tossed his helmet up and down.

"I'm kinda hoping for some mauling," his sister shrugged indifferently. "You know, something for the shoulder or lower back."

The more I listened to the Thornston twins, the more I became concerned about the sanity of the refugee district's children.

"Yeah sure," I smiled slightly as Astrid's sarcastic voice echoed up into the cavernous Arena, "it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

"No kidding," I muttered quietly under my breath. "Pain:  _love_  it."

Not quiet enough apparently. The entire squad turned towards me, their face betraying their obvious surprise that I was following them. Only Astrid didn't turn around. She just kept walking.

"Oh great," Tuffnut spoke up, his narrow features scrunching up in disgust. "Who let you in?"

"I  _am_  a part of Nu Squad," I replied bitterly, adding silently,  _"And believe me, I don't want to be here any more than you do."_

"Since when?" Snotlout snorted, glancing back to see if Astrid was watching. "Never see you on fire duty. Never see you run drills with us. You sure you're even with the Military Police?"

"Alrigh', tha's enough of tha' " Gobber's impatient voice interrupted any comment I might have thought of. Astrid had already reached him and the small pile of equipment lying beside his cybernetic foot. "Fall in, all of ye. Ye not here ta fight each other after all."

I ignored the grumbling of my fellow 'comrades' as we fell into single file in front of the major, helmets under our arms with me standing quietly beside Fishlegs. I had learned before even joining the Military Police I wasn't welcome with these people.

"I guess congrats are in order," Gobber's dark grin was hardly a welcoming one as he strode down the line. "Ye just one of five squads tha' has been selected for this course, so be proud ye've gotten this far. But if ye lucky, this might just be the start of ye glorious careers! Ta make things a little more interesting, we've decided ta grant the top ranking trainee of all five squads a promotion to commissioned officer status, as well as the honour of destroying their first Dragonoid in front of the brass, the Dome Council…an' anyone else who want's ta watch really."

Embarrassing myself in front of almost anyone from The Dome was hardly what I called a decent prize. Still, the likelihood of even getting into the top five list for me was remote, and I planned to keep it that way. I just wanted to get through this thing in one piece. The others save Astrid were grinning at each other eagerly, Snotlout whispering to Tuffnut about all the wonderful things he could do with an officer's salary. Our sergeant merely kept staring ahead, a determined look on her face. If anyone was going to get that promotion, I'd wager my own wage packet for a year that Astrid would take it hands down.

"Don' look so worried lad," I glanced at Gobber as he took advantage of the excitement he'd brewed up. "Ye small an' weak. That'll make ye less of a target."

"Less of a target?" I asked exasperatedly. "I'm being shoved into a fifty-five-foot tall mech! How exactly will I look any different from these guys?"

"Ah, Dragonoids are good at sniffin' out the weak from the strong," the major grinned. "They'll see ye as sick or insane an' focus on the more soldiery teens."

I would have questioned the logic behind the statement had the major not turned to walk back down the line.

Wait a minute…did he say Dragonoids?

"Within this Arena, ye'll learn ta operate Vikings through fighting Dragonoids we have captured that are controlled by the onboard A.I.," I felt the blood drain from my face as Gobber continued to talk like he was describing the weather. "They might fight more aggressively than what ye'll face on the battlefield, but we feel tha' it's best to see these beasts at their worst, so anything else will be a breeze for ye when the time comes."

Again, I felt the flaws in this logic were staggering.

"Over the next few weeks, ye'll all fight models of Dragonoid that have been attacking The Dome within the past decade, including the Nadder-class Scout…"

"Speed rating: seven. Threat Level Upsilon," I glanced at Fishlegs beside me as the teen went into automatic pilot.

"…the Zippleback assault tank…"

"Armour rating: eight. Threat Level Upsilon."

"…the Nightmare Command unit…"

"Weapon rating: ten. Threat Level: Upsilon."

"…the Terror attack drone…"

"Stealth rating: nine. Threat Level…Upmph!"

"Upsilon," I gave my sometimes-friend a dark look as I elbowed him sharply in the ribs, "I got it."

"…an' finally," the Major wondered away from the group to a secure looking booth mounted into the Arena's wall, "the mainstay unit, Gronckle-class."

"Mobility rating: three. Threat Level…" I fixed Patrick with a hard stare, "…sorry."

"So what are we waiting for?" Snotlout asked impatiently. "Bring out the Vikings! Let's get this party started!"

"Ah, not yet," Gobber grinned as he entered the booth. "First ye gotta learn ta survive a Dragonoid attack  _without a_  Viking ta fall back on."

I suddenly felt very afraid, "And how are we going to do that?"

 _"Tha's the thing ya see,"_  Gobber's voice came over the Arena's sound system as a pair of doors groaned open,  _"I believe in learning on the job!"_

From within the darkness beyond, the sound of metallic clamps and EMP generators disengaging echoed through the Arena, followed swiftly by the heavy hum of a Dragonoid's power returning to it.

* * *

As it slowly moved out of the gloom, Astrid felt an eager grin spread across her face.

The Gronckle was the workhorse of the Dragonoids; a heavily armoured mech cast in bark brown metal and held in the air by six long wings, three to a side, beating fast to the point they were blurs at the Dragonoid's sides, a series of manoeuvring jets along the main body making sure the mech maintained stability. Its purpose was to provide heavy hitting power where it was needed, something it gladly provided via the two large energy turrets mounted to its sides and the plasma mortar slung to the underbelly just behind the bulbous head that housed the cockpit. The red-eyed camera was darting around the circular strip in the front of its head, eying each of the six humans before it, locking onto Astrid last.

The girl continued to grin as she strapped her helmet to her head. She was prepared for this. Fishlegs wasn't the only one who'd studied up on Dragonoids.

"Hey ugly! You just gonna sit there or…"

Snotlout was rewarded for speaking up with the first energy blast of the attack, the shot missing him by inches as the terrified soldier leapt clear.

 _"Today is about survival,"_  Gobber's cheerful voice was barely heard over the roar of the Gronckle's rear thrusters as the squad scattered across the arena.  _"If ya get blasted, ya dead! So lads an' lasses, ya on the battlefield with only downed Vikings in sight. Whatcha gonna do?"_

 _"Find a medic?"_  Astrid heard Hiccup call over the radio.

 _"Run for you your life?"_  Fishlegs squealed as a second blast narrowly missed his head.

"Find cover."

 _"Points ta Sergeant Hofferson."_  she was already running for the pile of equipment as Gobber congratulated her.  _"If ya caught on the battlefield with ya trousers down, cover or a shield will become ya best friend. A Viking in experienced hands can be started up in around thirty seconds. If ya have the choice between a downed AF or cover,_ take _the cover!"_

Astrid already had a riot shield in hand as the Gronckle fired again, the ground shaking from the blast as the others hurriedly followed her lead.

 _"Get your hands off my shield!"_  the Sergeant looked back irritably as Ruffnut and Tuffnut began to squabble over the radio.

_"There's like a million other shields!"_

_"Take_ that _one. Someone drew a flower on it. Girls like that…"_

The remark was cut short by the sound of riot shield against helmet.

_"Oops. Now it has blood on it…"_

_"PLASMA MORTAR!"_

Hiccup's voice came moments before a burning ball of purple separated the twins, the riot shield fizzing away into a molten lump of plastic as the pair were blown clear from the blast.

 _"Corporals Thornston, ye both out."_ the major seemed almost gleeful as the twins lay bemused and semiconscious on the floor.  _"Riot shields were obviously not designed ta deflect advanced alien weaponry, so try ta avoid direct hits. Speaking of Dragonoid tech, a plasma mortar has a limited number of shots depending on the mech mounting it. Any o' ya bright sparks out there know how many a Gronckle can fire off?"_

 _"Five?"_  asked Snotlout hesitantly as another energy blast sent the splinters of a destroyed barricade scattering across his shield.

_"No, six!"_

_"Correct! That's one for each of ya! Points ta Corporal Ingerman…"_  Astrid smirked as another plasma blast struck home against the large boy's shield, Fishlegs dropping the fizzling mess with a girlish scream before taking off across the Arena,  _"…An' points deducted. Ya out! McKrillen, get out there!"_

The sergeant glanced over to where Hiccup sat hunched behind his shield near the edge of the Arena behind one of the barricades, pulling the protective slab closer to his head every time the Dragonoid even came remotely close to his position. She rolled her eyes in disgust. The battlefield was no place for a coward.

The Dragonoid smashed into the wall over the dressing room entrance as Fishlegs bolted through it. Astrid took advantage of its disorientation, leaping over the top of one of the barricades to come down with a heavy thump against the concrete on the other side.

"Oh, hey Sarge!" she had to use all of her willpower to stop herself from cringing as Snotlout's eager voice met her ears. Of all the barricades she had to choose…, "So anyway, I'm moving into my parents' basement. I got some weights for my birthday last year, maybe you should come by some time to work out…" The Gronckle had no doubt caught sight of her attempted escape, as it had turned away from its wall-side crater and was heading straight toward her, the mortar glowing its bright purple as she calmly counted the seconds. "I mean you look like you work out so I thought…"

Whatever Snotlout had thought of her was lost in a combination of her leaping clear and the sounds of a barricade being reduced to splinters. Astrid only glanced back to make sure the corporal was unhurt (A faint burbled groan confirmed it), before sprinting across the Arena to where Hiccup sat crouched before the Dragonoid had realised where she'd gone.

The only private under her command was clinging to his riot shield like he might fall apart without it. His face was paper white, his breathing coming out in deep gasps even though she suspected he hadn't moved very far from where he sat.

"Are you just going to sit back here until the Dragonoid calls uncle?" Astrid asked casually.

"Probably," Hiccup gave her an irritated glare. "Are you going to keep hopping around the Arena like a flea on coffee until…" she smirked as his face fell with realisation. "You came over here on purpose didn't you."

"Uh-huh."

The pair dived in opposite directions as the barricade exploded.

Astrid was laughing as she watched Hiccup scramble to find new cover, his riot shield half burned away. Only one shot left now. She ran confidently across the concrete floor. The first day of training hadn't even ended and already she had shown everyone there why she had been made sergeant of Nu Squad…

Such contented feelings quickly vanished as she heard the sound of the Gronckle's energy cannons at the far end of the arena, followed quickly by a panicked Gobber screaming Hiccup's name.

* * *

" _What a wonderful day I'm having,"_  was the sarcastic thought that came to mind as the wind was crushed from my lungs against the arena floor.  _"My pilot suit is trying to crush me, my instructor is trying to kill me, and my fri…sergeant is trying to help him along. What a_ wonderful _day to be alive."_

The thrum of the Gronckle's wings was loud in my ears as I pushed myself back onto my feet and forced them into motion towards the exit. I could feel the Dragonoid's camera on the back of my head, the downdraft of wing movement and manoeuvring jets against my back pushing me to run even faster. I was almost there, just a few feet more…

A second energy blast caused the ground to explode beneath my feet, the sheer concussion force throwing me heavily into the wall back first, before crumpling into a broken heap on the floor

"…Ow…" I felt the shadow of the Gronckle over me, its single red camera looking down at me like a predator moving in for the kill. Somehow, being blasted at point blank range by a plasma mortar on my first day of training wasn't how I imagined I'd leave this world.

_"Mav gar sushir?"_

I blinked in surprise as the metallic monotone voice spoke from within the Gronckle. The Dragonoid hovered above me, its camera somehow looking less threatening. The turrets were pointed away from me, the plasma mortar powered down.

 _"Mav gar sushir?"_  it repeated, just loud enough for me to hear.

"I…I don't…"

Something exploded against the Gronckle's side, the Dragonoid rocking from the blast as heavy footfalls announced the arrival of a Viking Assault Frame.

 _"Tha's enough for taday ye overgrown toaster!"_  Gobber's voice resonated from the mech's external speakers as it unloaded another round from the smoothbore cannon into the Dragonoid's side,  _"Wait for 'em ta pilot the Vikings, then ye'll get another chance."_

The Gronckle turned towards the Assault Frame almost angrily, but any attack was cut short as it found itself caught in the large cables fired over it by the Arena's Dragonoid handlers. I watched in confused awe as the team of two yellow-clad civilian modified Vikings and five soldiers wrestled the great machine down to the ground, the Gronckle fighting valiantly struggling against its bonds until a local EMP generator was slapped in place over the primary power source. The entire mech slumped, and the camera's glow slowly died. The machine itself was silent, but the A.I. was intact to be fought another day.

"An' tha' lads and lasses leads us quite well to the most important lesson for today," Gobber sighed grimly as he dropped down from his Viking's cockpit. "Be it A.I. or piloted, a Dragonoid will always," he cast me a warning look, " _always_ …go for the kill."

I frowned as the medics swarmed over me, making sure nothing was broken or bleeding, before turning my gaze on the Gronckle as it was towed away. I didn't speak a word of the Dragonoid's language, but the mech hadn't seemed like it was going to shoot me. It was asking me something. Maybe it was asking me if I was ready to die, but none of its weapons had been active or pointed at me. Did A.I. even know how to gloat? This Dragonoid hadn't looked like it was about to kill me, and all of its shots had disarmed the others of Nu Squad.

It also wasn't the first time I'd looked down the barrel of an alien weapon and lived to tell about it.

Too many questions, not enough answers. If a Dragonoid always went for the kill no matter who or what was piloting it, why had I managed to survive both encounters?

* * *

_TIME: 1455 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTHEAST OF DOME TERRITORY_

I'd managed to get through my first day of training with minor cuts and bruising (Or as Gobber called it: "Just enough ta keep ye on ye toes."), the pilot suit's armour absorbing the brunt of the attack against my back as I'd hit the wall. The rest of the lesson had been far less…interesting. Apparently, our esteemed teacher only saw fit to release a Dragonoid on us once a week, (which suited me just fine) with the rest of our time was spent running survival drills against the Vikings themselves. The next time we would see the alien mecha in the arena, it would be through an Assault Frame's camera suite.

That said, I could still feel a slight ache in my joints as I walked cautiously down the broken road towards the other end of the village, the leg I had broken off the EMP stinger loose in my hand. It was a blind hope really; a stab in the dark that might give me the answers I wanted here.

I had no idea where the Night Fury or its remaining pilot had flown off to on that day a week ago. The logical part of my brain was telling me it went back to Washington Crater, but another part reminded me the Ca'furor was the only Dragonoid in the database that used a duel seat design. With one pilot dead, that small part grimly hoped that meant the Dragonoid might have crashed again, perhaps even close by.

Of course, the reason some old aircraft used to have co-pilots was in case something happened to the normal pilot, but like I said, it was a small hope. And sometimes a small hope will grasp at what straws it can in its bid to be right.

So this is why I found myself making my way down one of the smaller broken roads that led to the main road, shivering against the cold in the shadows of the trees that overshadowed the broken tarmac, my boots rustling the layers of dead foliage. I had decided to leave the bike back at the church ruins. The broken roads had been hard enough on my butt getting here, I wasn't going to risk the weathered, root strewn roads and try to explain to Gobber or my dad as to why the Military Police was short one motorcycle.

I was a bit more careful on this trip too. I'd changed into civilian clothes of simple black cargo pants and navy turtleneck, a warm beige windbreaker for the cold and Wellington boots for the anticipated mud that I might encounter after the heavy rains we'd been having over the last few days. The motorcycle's IFF signal, that which had given my position away to Astrid, had also been deactivated. If the Night Fury was still around, I wanted to make sure I was the only one who knew about it.

Speaking of which, I let a small military medical kit swing listlessly in my hand as I continued to walk towards the main road, a potential peace offering to the co-pilot…if it was still alive…to show I wanted to help in exchange for my answers.

Helping a Dragonoid pilot. If Dad ever found out, I could pretty guarantee my life was forfeit.

I'd considered bringing food, but I had no idea what these aliens eat, or even if Earth food agreed with them. Better to play it safe and offer something I knew it could at least partially use and use food at a later date if I learned anything new about the species.

The only other thing I had decided to carry with me was an audio Dictaphone. For all expectations, it was the Night Fury's onboard database I was hoping to get a look at, as long as the EMP hadn't fried that too, but the phrases I'd heard, from the Dragonoid co-pilot and the Gronckle A.I., I wanted to know what they meant, and the translation matrix back in The Dome's central computer would no doubt find it easier to translate someone who spoke the language fluently than my half-remembered attempts at emulating them.

I'd decided against bringing a weapon with me this time. Besides, that last thing I needed to do was antagonise the co-pilot again…if it was still alive.

If. This whole venture seemed to be made up of ifs.  _If_  the Fury had crashed.  _If_  the EMP hadn't fried the database.  _If_ the co-pilot was alive…Too many maybes, not enough definitelys.

The forest abruptly dissipated as this despondent thought flitted through my mind, a hand shielding my eyes with a wince as I took in my surroundings. The surrounding area was surprisingly clear of trees, the nearby fields only overgrown with tall grass and weeds, once trimmed border hedges now wild and out of control. A majority of the houses had been clustered here, surrounding the crossroads of the village's centre and the local school now all in varying states of weathered decay. Most had stood up to the test of time, but I couldn't help but notice the odd hole in the lines that denoted the occasional collapsed structure (the school itself currently had a fallen oak half-buried in its Main Hall), their stripped out windows and doors giving the place a wholly lonesome feeling.

Across the road from the school lay a large field, perhaps the size of a small football ground and probably once the hub of activity for village fetes, school races and charity events. Now long grass swayed in the autumn winds across the open grounds as vines of ivy crept up the rotting wooden fence that split up the remains of a small playground from the rest of the field, the wrought iron fence that lined the road's edge quietly rusting in peace.

I sighed bitterly into the quiet that surrounded me as I let my shoulders slump in defeat. Admittedly, this entire 'expedition' had been a long shot at best, but the fact I'd wasted a colossal amount of time getting ready, travelling beyond The Dome's borders without being seen and investigating the area made me feel even worse. I should have been at home, studying up on Assault Frame start-up procedures or good ion pump maintenance.

"This was stupid," I muttered aloud, if only to break the near silence. There was nothing here, not even a sign that a Dragonoid had even passed through, let alone a Night Fury. I sighed again as I turned to head back towards the Church…

Only to stop as a weak moan rose up from the grassy field.

I listened to the quiet of the village, praying the noise hadn't been the wind or an animal in the grassy ruins.

I frowned for a moment more the silence was only broken by the birds overhead. Perhaps it really had been nothing. As I turned to leave once more, however, a second pain ridden groan rose up from the field.

I didn't miss a beat as I bolted into the wild grass. What I found surprised even me.

Around a third of the way in, the ground suddenly dropped away down a steep slope into a massive crater that engulfed most of the playing field beyond. Twenty metres deep at its base, it had obviously been made some time ago, the craggy sides of earth and dirt eroded with the rains and sprinkled with greenery. Grass and weeds covered the wide crater floor, save for a small basin near the centre where rainwater had collected from the autumn storms. Most likely it had been made by a poorly aimed shot from one of the mass drivers, the remains of the shell probably hidden under the water, but any such thoughts I had on how this hole in the ground quickly disappeared as I recognised a familiar dragonish form lying close to the pond's edge.

The Night Fury had returned to its' Dragonoid form, a shallow trench of mud in the grass behind it telling me the landing had been far from smooth. Even though it had crashed twice within a week though, I couldn't see any major damage to the armour or general structure. The only other thing that looked out of place was a small black mass near the edge of the pond…

That was shifting slowly towards the water, whimpering as quietly as it could. It didn't take me long to realise what it was.

As I scrambled down the crater's crumbling side, I could see the Dragonoid co-pilot was still fully encased in its pilot suit, helmet and all. The water was its obvious target as it pulled itself along the ground, not even strong enough to walk on its own two legs. Somehow though, I doubted it was thirst that had completely reduced a pilot of one of The Dome's most feared targets to a crumpled heap. The wound on its arm had been badly bandaged, light red already soaking the fabric crimson entirely. A horrid feeling developed in my stomach at the thought that the gash in its arm might have been infected. It wasn't a good sign under normal circumstances, but if there was a specific reason the Dragonoid pilot suit had been pressurised…like, for example, no immunity to Earth's microbiology…an open wound could a death sentence. The hole in its' visor made by yours truly probably hadn't helped much either. If the Dragonoid species wasn't able to handle the microbes of Earth, it was a miracle this one had lasted as long as it did.

I didn't try to hide my approach as I slide down to the muddy ground, so I wasn't surprised when the co-pilot jumped at the squelching thud. It rolled onto its front, trying fruitlessly to get back on its feet, but all it could manage to do was fall back on its knees, and even then it had to hold itself up with one hand.

"Demagolka," its high voice was weak and raspy, pain evident in the single eye I could see, "ni jorhaa'ir gar…aht…shekemir ni!"

"Take it easy. I held up my free hand warily, "I'm here to help. See?" I showed it the medical kit, "I just want to help…"

"K'oyacyi be'chaaj…teh ni!" I frowned in irritation as the co-pilot shrank back. Vaabir'naas olaror gebi…Demagolka!"

I really wished someone had had the brains to build mobile translators, because this conversation was getting me nowhere. I was recording everything the co-pilot said of course, but hearing probable insults and such a good deal of time after the events had occurred hardly seemed to be productive.

Getting nowhere through talking, I knelt down and opened up the kit, searching through the small vials until I found the one I needed to sedate my 'patient' and loaded it into the hypoinjector; a roughly pistol-shaped object with a barrel that narrowed down to a thin blunt tube, the clear three centimetre cylinder inserted into the rear of the device now loaded with a semi-transparent orange liquid.

Of course, I had no idea if the stuff inside the vial would put it to sleep or kill it, but with the state the co-pilot was in, I felt it was better to at least try and help in any way I could, even if it meant putting it out of its misery.

"Nayc…K'oyacyi norac…" the alien fell backwards as I approached with the hypoinjector in hand. "Gar nuhaatyc…ni nuhaatyc…trattok'or…"

It was so weak and trapped between me and the pond. The single eye stared at me with incredible pain, its head falling back against the grass as I came up beside it.

"Just relax," I tried to smile, pushing away the reminder I was trying to help humanity's greatest enemy. "I know you can't understand me, but I  _am_  trying to help. This might sting for a moment…"

The co-pilot only whimpered quietly in protest as I removed one of the gauntlets, the long fingers of its bone white hand twitching weakly pressed the hypoinjector's tip into the vein.

"Takisit ni…Al'verde…"

The body went limp as the eye rolled up into its head, a peaceful sigh muffled slightly by the helmet's mouthpiece.

I carefully laid the hand down, feeling slightly relieved at the sound of even breathing. The co-pilot was asleep, at least for now. After making sure it was in deep slumber, I began the process by removing the bloody bandage and rolling back the sleeve.

I lost track of how much time passed as I patched up my 'patient'. I'd cleaned up the infection with what I had and bound the wound with a fresh sterile bandage. All I could do now was hope it would pull through.

Having done all I felt I could do with the co-pilot, I turned towards the Night Fury, a determined look overcoming my face.

If the alien couldn't help me, maybe the A.I. would.

* * *

A rancid stench met my nose as the hatch opened for me effortlessly at a touch of a button, a clear sign that power had been restored. The Pilot's body hadn't been removed from the front seat, now lit by emergency lighting. Spending a week in the warmth of the cockpit hadn't helped the decaying corpse smell any better. Its head was still at the same ugly angle, the blood now congealed and glistening against the armour plate. I could only assume the co-pilot's injury had prevented it from moving its comrade. Leaving the body seemed disrespectful if you could do something about it. Not that I could do much better. Even if I managed to get the dead pilot out of the cockpit, I had no tools with me to dig a grave, and leaving the body has food for the scavengers didn't sit right with me.

Holding my sleeve to my mouth, I passed the front seat to the Co-pilot's chair, sitting down before the console and trying to ignore the carcass in front of me.

The first thing I noticed was how much…taller the Dragonoid pilots were. At 5"8 myself, my feet dangled uselessly a good foot above the pedals, my hands unlikely to move the large control sticks mounted to the armrests. All the buttons were labelled of course, but the jagged lines and triangular shapes of the Dragonoid language were…well…alien to me. I couldn't tell which switch began the startup sequence from the one that fired the energy cannons.

Then there was the A.I.. above my head. The dome that housed its central intelligence was still dark. A.I.s had a separate power source from the rest of the Dragonoid. The Military Police had learned through trial and error how to take down a Dragonoid without deactivating the A.I.. To see the dome inactive when every manual told me it should be lit (even when the machine itself was powered down.)…concerned me.

"Why aren't you active?" I wondered aloud into my sleeve as I turned back to the console. "Why doesn't your pilot just…fly away?"

As I had thought before, the console before me looked almost identical to the one below. I couldn't figure out why the co-pilot hadn't simply just made a beeline for Washington Crater. It had managed to transform after all. Surely flying away couldn't have been much harder?

I frowned as I slumped back in the large chair, my hands falling short of the armrests either side. I blinked as I felt my fingers brush against something on the way down, a small pocket swaying in the semi-darkness. It looked as though someone had stitched into the side of the chair by hand, for it lacked the finer craftsmanship of the rest of the seat. But it was inside the pouch that made my eyes widen.

Schematics, pages of them! An entire makeshift book on everything that had gone into the construction of the Night Fury-class Dragonoid. Blueprints of fuselage structure, weapon designs, A.I. construct protocols, it was all here. Admittedly, what writing there was written in the Dragonoid language, but the pictures were incredibly detailed. Someone had also scrawled tiny notes in the margins and edges, arrows pointing to various parts of mechanisms and devices. On a page dedicated to internal blueprints, for example, someone had written in large bulky letters, as though it was important, a pair of arrows pointing towards a large block towards the rear of the Fury in Dragonoid mode and a smaller module I couldn't identify sitting right beside it.

Who'd ever made this booklet had done so for their own benefit, that much was clear. Just how inexperienced did the Dragonoid co-pilot have to be to keep its own personal 'How To Maintain Your Dragonoid' manual in the metaphorical glove compartment?

Any other thoughts were quickly pushed from the back of my mind as the sound of thunder rumbled overhead. Another storm was coming in, which meant the broken roads of the village would be quickly turning to mud if I didn't get back to The Dome before the downpours came.

So I slipped the manual into one of my windbreaker's inner pockets for later study and crawled out of the cockpit, just in time to feel the first droplets of rain splash against my nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAGONOID TRANSLATIONS
> 
> "Mav gar sushir?"  
> (Will you listen?)
> 
> "Demagolka. Ni jorhaa'ir gar…aht…shekemir ni!"  
> (Monster. I told you…not…to follow me!)
> 
> "K'oyacyi be'chaaj…teh ni! Vaabir'naas olaror gebi…Demagolka!"  
> (Stay away…from me! Don't come closer Monster!)
> 
> "Nayc…K'oyacyi norac…gar nuhaatyc…ni nuhaatyc…trattok'or…"  
> (No…Stay back…you can't…I can't…fail…)
> 
> "Takisit ni…Al'verde…"  
> (Forgive me…High Superior…)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> How to Maintain Your Dragonoid was the original title of this story, but was shortened to Dragonoid for reasons I hope become apparent as the fic progresses. In addition to the title drop this chapter, the last remnant of the old title's influence is that chapters are labelled as Sections, as in sections of a tech manual. The idea came from watching anime like Gundam SEED and Code Geass, which labelled their episodes as Phases and Stages respectfully.
> 
> A lot of Dragonoid's early world building was very much 'Write What You Know'. The ruined village is based on my hometown, as it made it easier to map out where everything was without having to create a new map from scratch.
> 
> Speaking of writing what you know, a reader was asking me about why technology hadn't developed much further beyond today's (or rather 2009/2010s) standards, so I thought I'd post my reply here too.
> 
> From an in universe perspective, I would say the lack of advancement stems from a lack of necessity. Machines like the Vikings appear more advanced because they have been shown to be effective against the Dragonoids, and so are developed more strenuously. On the flip side, the Stinger Missile system pales in comparison and thus wouldn't get as much development. It does what the Military Police wants it to do, so why change it? A real world example: the Browning Hi-Power pistol, created in 1935, is still in production and is still used by several armed forces across the globe. Also, considering this is a post-apocalyptic world, resources are scarce, so development projects must be chosen wisely. Take Fallout 4 for example, where the Brotherhood of Steel chose to develop airship technology rather than new power armours.
> 
> From a writing perspective, I used the Stinger system because I hoped people would be able to identify it without much explanation. Stingers have appeared in a lot of the modern shooters, such as Call of Duty, and as it pretty much disappeared from the narrative after the introduction of the Night Fury, it didn't make much sense to develop a new weapon from scratch or describe a new MPAD system that wasn't going to feature predominantly in the story (for example, compare the description of the Night Fury to that of other Dragonoids). You'll probably note as the story develops that I mostly keep Human technology around the late twentieth/early twenty-first century level, giant robots notwithstanding. Again, I did this in order to help readers identify with the tech without unnecessary explanation.
> 
> That's all for now. I know I said I would talk about Toothless' personality implementation, but I got my chapters mixed up. I'll talk about it next time for certain. And at a reader's request, I'll talk about the other Dragonoid design inspirations next week too (It'll be more appropriate that talking about it here)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Section 04: The Learning Man

**SECTION 04**

**THE LEARNING MAN**

_DATE: NOVEMBER 22, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1623 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY, LECTURE THEATRE S.12_

 

I ignored the amused and surprised glances I got from my comrades as I trudged into the large theatre, soaked to the bone, my hair clinging to my skull and trailing water up the stairs. It was bad enough my squad mates were sniggering amongst themselves, save for Astrid, who only gave me a disapproving glance, but the fact the other four squads that had been selected for AF training also filled up the seats, all staring at me in bemusement and muttering to each other at the sight of the drenched soldier in civilian clothing…it was embarrassing to say the least.

        Gobber thankfully decided to ignore me as I slumped up to one of the unoccupied chairs near the rear of the lecture theatre (as far from Nu Squad as I could get) choosing instead to chew out one terrified girl, one poor Sarah ‘Waif’ Andrews of Lambda Squad, on some technicality that running around in circles from the Gronckle screaming her head off was hardly good survival practice for a soldier of the Military Police. Review sessions that were supposed to take place at the end of every workday, something I’d inconveniently forgotten about when I’d set out to find the Night Fury and its co-pilot. Not that I needed to be reminded of how badly I’d done this morning.

        “…Movin’ on then,” the major turned his eyes on Nu Squad’s leader as Waif burst into tears, her nearby friend putting a consoling arm around her shoulders. “Can any of ye bright sparks in Nu Squad tell me where Sergeant Hofferson wen’ wrong this morning?”

        “I don’t remember the Sarge doing anything wrong,” I rolled my eyes as Snotlout tried to score points with his ‘girl’, grinning like an idiot in the blonde’s direction. “She was just so Astr…”

        I smirked as Astrid slapped her devoted comrade round the back of the head into the chair in front of him, her face grim and set as she stood up.

        “I intentionally placed a soldier under my command in danger,” I looked up slightly at my superior’s calm tone, “It was stupid and careless. Private McKrillen was almost killed partly because of my actions,” she shot me a dark glare over her shoulder, “but if he’d been out on the battlefield instead of hiding like a coward, I wouldn’t have felt the need to coax him out in the first place.”

        I scowled back, letting my head fall onto my open hand against the armrest. I didn’t rise to the debate. I had made a conscious decision to avoid the Gronckle for as long as possible after all (Hiding from the flying death machine seemed like a good idea at the time), and I could see arguing was exactly what Astrid wanted me to do. She held my gaze for a moment more before turning back to the major.

        “Sir, I will not deny that my actions this morning were childish on my part, but McKrillen’s own actions this morning merely accent what I told General McKrillen the morning before he left; his son is not a soldier. And no amount of training, with weapons, drills or Assault Frames will change that. Putting him on the battlefield will be a danger to us all, and _nothing_ will change that.”

        I stood up angrily as Ruffnut and Tuffnut broke into whoops and applause, Snotlout smirking darkly as he tried to stop the blood dripping from his nose. I didn’t even look in her direction as I strode out of the theatre, my throat burning and my ears deaf to the protests of Gobber as I slammed the door behind me. If Astrid didn’t want me there, fine. I had something better to do with my time now anyway.

* * *

_TIME: 1647 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, MILITARY POLICE HEADQUARTERS, MAIN COMPUTER ARCHIVE_

 

>>>STAND BY<<<

 

I drummed my fingers against the desk as the two words blinked at me on the screen, Astrid’s words repeating over and over again in my mind.

        The large room that held the computer archive was dark for this time of day, the large obsidian columns that housed The Dome’s largest archive casting long shadows in the information screen’s dim light. To be honest, I preferred it this way; with no one else about, I could freely access what I wanted with no one around to ask questions, like ‘What are all these pictures you‘ve got?’ and ‘How’d you get such good audio samples of the Dragonoid Language?’. I was already taking a great risk by bringing the Night Fury manual into Central Tower (even if it was just scanned jpeg files on a USB flash drive), let alone the Dictaphone with everything I had recorded held within its memory. But I wanted to answers. I wanted to know what had made the Night Fury crash again, especially with the EMP stinger knocked out of action. A little bit of education into what we knew of Dragonoid technology wouldn’t go amiss either.

Finally, the computer pinged as it completed its start-up routine.

 

///WELCOME TO THE\\\\\

///MILITARY POLICE CENTRAL ARCHIVE\\\\\

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

        First thing was first, I had to make sure no one traced my research back to me.

 

>ISOLATE INFORMATION TERMINAL

 

\\\\\AUTHORISATION CODE REQUIRED///

 

> STOIC SIGMA SEVEN VICTOR TWO

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

        As a general and the head of the Military Police, some of my Dad’s work needed to be confidential. Nothing illegal of course…not usually…but some information might be dangerous if found by the wrong people. This code, changed at the start of every month, was my father’s way of ensuring such data never left the computer it was programmed onto.

        And if his son just happened to find the new code hurriedly scrawled on a scrap of paper in his father’s coat pocket every month, it was just as useful to hide what _he_ was doing from everyone else just as well.

 

///CODE ACCEPTED\\\\\

///INFORMATION TERMINAL ISOLATED\\\\\

///WELCOME GENERAL GREGORIO MCKRILLEN\\\\\

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

> RUN TRANSLATION MATRIX: AUDIO/VISUAL

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

///TRANSLATION MATRIX READY\\\\\

///PLEASE CONNECT AUDIO DEVICE TO TERMINAL\\\\\

\\\\\PLEASE SELECT VISUAL FILES///

\\\\\FOR TRANSLATION ///

 

 

        I felt the anticipation growing within me as I connected the Dictaphone to the terminal via a long cable, the flash drive already in its proper place as I selected every file on it.

 

///FILES FOUND\\\\\

///DRAGONOID LANGUAGE CONFIRMED\\\\\

\\\\\HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?///

 

> BEGIN TRANSLATION: ALL FILES

 

///CONFIRMED\\\\\

\\\\\TRANSLATING ALL FILES///

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

        I cast a nervous glance behind me as the terminal hummed contentedly, the audio transcripts forming words and their meanings on one side while identifying portions of text from each scanned page on the other. It would take around ten minutes or so for the files to be fully translated, but I had another question on my mind to fill up the time in the meanwhile. Putting the translation program off to one side, I accessed the database proper, intending to try and find something attached to other Dragonoid models that resembled the mystery device that had apparently worried the co-pilot.

 

> ACCESS DRAGONOID MECHA DATABASE: VARIANTS IN SERVICE: 240-250 A.D.E.

 

>>>PLEASE WAIT<<<

 

///ACCESSING REQUESTED\\\\\

///DRAGONOID MECHA DATABASE\\\\\

\\\\\PLEASE SELECT MACHINE///

 

        A list of a twenty or so Dragonoids seen within the last ten years appeared before me, each with a listing of ratings that Fishlegs loved to quote so much. Blueprints and general information filled the screen with the selection of each name, my eyes flitting through the basic info as I tried to find what I was looking for.

 

///GRONCKLE\\\\\

 

_DRAGONOID DESIGNATION: GRO’KELE_

_UNIT TYPE: GENERAL PURPOSE_

_DIMENSIONS: 12.3 METRES LONG_

_WEIGHT: 5.9 METRIC TONS_

_FIRST KNOWN DEPLOYMENT: DECEMBER 22, 233 A.D.E._

_FIXED ARMAMENTS: MID-POWER ENERGY TURRET X2, PLASMA MORTAR X1_

_THREAT LEVEL: UPSILON (DESTROY ON SIGHT)_

///NADDER\\\\\

 

_DRAGONOID DESIGNATION: NAR’DAER_

_UNIT TYPE: SCOUTING AND RECONNAISSANCE_

_DIMENSIONS: 14.8 METRES LONG_

_WEIGHT: 7.5 METRIC TONS_

_FIRST KNOWN DEPLOYMENT: AUGUST 3, 242 A.D.E._

_FIXED ARMAMENTS: LOW-POWER ENERGY PULSE BLASTERS X2_

_THREAT LEVEL: UPSILON (DESTROY ON SIGHT)_

 

///ZIPPLEBACK\\\\\

 

_DRAGONOID DESIGNATION: ZIPP’RELBEC_

_UNIT TYPE: ASSAULT TANK_

_DIMENSIONS: 18.5 METRES LONG_

_WEIGHT: 43.4 METRIC TONS_

_FIRST KNOWN DEPLOYMENT: JUNE 28, 227 A.D.E._

_FIXED ARMAMENTS: HIGH-POWER DUEL BARREL ENERGY TURRET X2, PLASMA MORTAR X2, ANTI-PERSONAL MACHINE GUN X2, GRAPPLE GUN X2, SMOKE SCREEN DISPENSER X6_

_THREAT LEVEL: UPSILON (DESTROY ON SIGHT)_

 

///NIGHTMARE\\\\\

_DRAGONOID DESIGNATION: CA’VEROPA_

_UNIT TYPE: COMMAND_

_DIMENSIONS: 19.7 METRES LONG_

_WEIGHT: 68.9 METRIC TONS_

_FIRST KNOWN DEPLOYMENT: NOVEMBER 20, 229 A.D.E._

_FIXED ARMAMENTS: HIGH-POWER ENERGY CANNONS X2, MID-POWER ENERGY PULSE BLASTER X2, ANTI-PERSONAL MACHINE X1, PLASMA DISPENSER X1_

_THREAT LEVEL: UPSILON (DESTROY ON SIGHT)_

 

        I scowled irritably, my eyes skimming down the lists. Each was more of the same; menacing machines of various sizes, all armed with various yields of energy cannons, pulse blasters, machine guns and plasma mortars, all marked with the same threat level.

        Upsilon, Upsilon, Upsilon. Destroy on sight, Destroy on sight, Destroy on sight…

        Until I came to the last model on the list.

 

///NIGHT FURY\\\\\

_DRAGONOID DESIGNATION: CA’FUROR_

_UNIT TYPE: UNKNOWN_

_DIMENSIONS: UNKNOWN_

_WEIGHT: UNKNOWN_

_FIRST KNOWN DEPLOYMENT: MARCH 26, 245 A.D.E._

_FIXED ARMAMENTS: UNKNOWN_

_THREAT LEVEL: OMEGA ( **DO NOT ENGAGE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES** )_

        I slumped back in my chair as I took in the virtually blank data sheet. The Military Police considered the Fury to be so dangerous, they’d given it the highest threat level possible to make those that read the report understand what they were up against.

        And now one such machine was lying in a crater not five klicks away.

        The terminal pinged as it finished the translation, the Night Fury’s blueprints coming up over the almost blank data sheet. A machine both Dragonoid and Humanoid, the most dangerous machine we had ever faced…

        And I currently knew more about it than any other human alive.

* * *

_DATE: NOVEMBER 27, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1808 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)_

_LOCATION: NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN, SEVEN KLICKS SOUTH OF GREENLAND, CMF_ DAUNTLESS _, COMMAND CENTRE_

 

It was getting dark as the _Dauntless_ and her escort continued onward toward the Dragonoid outpost. Stoic sat in the Command chair, only vaguely aware that the night shift was changing around him. He’d been on duty since midnight the day before and was suffering for it. His eyes were tired and drooping, dark rings encircling them. He was fighting desperately to try and stay awake, the combination of coffee and energy boosters slowly beginning to ebb away as the sun dipped below the horizon.

 _“We’re so close,”_ he smiled wearily. _“This will be just the first step towards victory. I can almost taste it!”_

        “General McKrillen?” Gregorio almost jumped as Colonel Egil Jorgenson, call sign Spitelout, shook him by the shoulder. “Sir, It’s my watch. You should get some sleep. You’ll be fit for nothing by the time we reach Greenland otherwise.”

        The general frowned slightly at his comrade’s boldness, before reluctantly nodding as he hefted his bulk out of the chair.

        “Wake me at 0600 sharp,” he wagged a finger the amused Colonel’s way. “Do _not_ move this rig within tracking distance of the installation without me understand?”

        Spitelout smirked as he snapped off a salute, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

        “Good. Then the Bridge is yours. I’m going to bed.”

        A few hours sleep was what he needed, of that he was sure. When the time came, he and his crew would be ready to start the end of this war…

        “Colonel Jorgenson! We’ve got incoming! Five…no six…ten…”

        And in a single moment, Stoic felt his hope for the future drain away with the first energy blasts to the _Dauntless’_ side.

* * *

_DATE: NOVEMBER 29, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0812 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY ASSAULT FRAME TRAINING ARENA_

 

“System online. Primary start-up engaged. Oxygen Supply System stable, Hydrogen Filter Control active, Fuel Flow Rate within acceptable levels, Counterweight System ready, systems all green.”

        The Viking’s cockpit thrummed with energy around Astrid as her gloved fingers danced across the consoles before her, a grim smirk passing across her face as she heard her comrades stumble through their own start-up operations over the radio, trying to keep up with her. She was finally here, where she knew she should have been from the start. The cockpit was cramped; A chair of cracked leather surrounded by three large screens to the outside world and consoles of various functions, (start-up procedures on her left, communications and radar selection on her right, weapons and miscellaneous options on a smaller retractable console that sat between her legs), and control stick on each armrest (the left for movement and camera manipulation, the right for weapons aiming). But she felt alive in here; like she was supposed to command the massive walking weapon platforms known as the Viking Assault Frame, even if this was a training model. From here, Astrid could show them all who she really was.

 _“Tadey, ye lot are finally gonna be put through ye paces,”_ Gobber’s voice crackled through Astrid’s helmet’s speakers as the screens cleared of static to reveal the Arena beyond. _“Seeing as this is ye first time out with the Vikings in actual combat, we’re gonna start off light with the Nadder Scout-class Dragonoid. But ta make things a bit more interesting…well, ya can see for yerselves.”_

        Astrid smirked again as the major chuckled. The Arena looked as though it had been rebuilt from the ground up. Giant walls of steel that dwarfed even the Viking rose up on either side, the short path before her leading into a mech sized maze, hiding the others from view. From somewhere within, she could hear the sound of a Dragonoid’s ion engines echo through the passageways. She let a grin spread across her face, eager to begin.

 _“Hey, Gobber before we start, I have some questions regarding the Dragonoid database,”_ the grin quickly faded as Hiccup’s voice came over her radio. She hadn’t been surprised when he showed up for training the day after her ‘speech’ in the lecture theatre. Rile that private up enough, and he’ll always come back to try and prove you wrong. Just this once, she really wished he would just give up. _“I noticed we don’t have any information on the Night Fury-class. Has the General classified it for some reason, or is it in a separate file or…”_

 _“Focus McKrillen!”_ the irritation in the major’s voice was obvious. Clearly, he hadn’t forgiven Hiccup for walking out on his review session, especially when he came in late. _“Ya wanna ask questions? Ask yerself how close the Nadder might be ta ye while ye’ve been prattling on!”_

The smirk returned to Astrid’s face as Hiccup’s comm. Frequency went silent…until Fishlegs screamed from the other end of the maze.

_“I COULD USE SOME HELP OVER HERE!”_

        Astrid grinned as she pushed her Viking forward, “This is Valkyrie, moving to intercept.”

_“Hiccup…heading out.”_

        She felt a moment of surprise that Hiccup was the first to speak up after her, Snotlout and the twins still struggling to finish starting up their Assault Frames. But she quickly put it out of her mind. After all, Hiccup was still Hiccup.

        She wasn’t far into the maze before she caught sight of her target, chasing a certain chubby corporal’s Viking through a T-junction by jumping over the tops of the walls themselves.

        Of all the Dragonoids she’d ever seen in person, the Nadder was definitely one of Astrid’s favourites. A streamlined machine cast in a silvery metallic blue, with a long graceful neck leading up to the arrow-shaped head, a large RaDOME mounted just behind foldable wings doubling as a balancer with the adjoining tail for ground assaults. She watched with mild fascination as the Dragonoid almost hopped across the tops of the walls with the large claws that adorned its powerful legs, its shoulder-mounted energy blasters raining orange globs of destructive light down on its target from above as Fishlegs tried desperately to lose it in the maze.

        Time to get to work.

 _“The Nadder-class, as so perfectly demonstrated by Corporal Ingerman, is as light on its feet as it is fast inna air,”_ she barely heard Gobber as she blasted the Dragonoid with a trio of training shots from her recoilless rifle. _“It’s only equipped with energy blasters, but that won’t stop it from takin’ ye out by the counterweights if ye underestimate it!”_

        The Nadder turned its crimson gaze on Astrid’s Viking as the training shells impacted against its side, the mech almost blurring on her cameras as it tore towards her. She was out of its sight by the time it reached her corner, however, the blip on her radar that was Fishlegs showing he had fled in the opposite direction.

 _“A Nadder’s primary role on the battlefield is reconnaissance from the air, but they’ve been known ta take ta the ground for hit and run attacks,”_ Gobber’s commentary continued as Astrid watched the red blip that was her target suddenly take interest in a pair of Vikings belonging to the twins at the opposite end of the maze _. “But because they were designed primarily for the air, tha’ RaDOME on its back gives ‘em a large blind spot directly around the mech, specifically around the back where the beastie has no cameras. Most Dragonoids will have blind spots if they’re grounded, so find it, hide in it, and strike!”_

        Astrid was already pushing her Viking forward as the Nadder neared its new target, Snotlout’s mech coming round the corner as she pushed her machine into high gear.  She was surprised that the twins had the brains to hide on either side of a T-junction as the Nadder sped by, only for her eyes to roll up to the artificial ceiling as the two yellow dots collided behind their target with a faraway metallic clang.

_“Hey! I was here first!”_

_“No way! Get your_ own _damn blind spot!”_

 _“Yeah? How ‘bout I give_ you _one!?”_

        Astrid’s Viking rounded a corner in time to see the Nadder snap round at the sound of Ruffnut attempting to swat her brother’s machine with the end of her cannon, its camera flashing bright red with warning, the twins managing to dodge back down their respective passageways before it began spitting bursts of bright orange energy through the aisle they’d occupied from its shoulder mounted blasters.

 _“Perhaps I should’ve mentioned a Dragonoid doesn’t_ need _ta see ya if ye make enough noise.”_

        The Nadder had moved down into the maze now, the edges of its wings scraping against the metal walls as its camera darted to every possible junction and corner a Viking could hide in. Slowly, Astrid adjusted her forward screen to the weapon cam and raised her sights before the Dragonoid’s head, the recoilless rifle rising with them. She was perfectly angled, her Assault Frame just out of sight. By the time the Nadder realised she was there, the win would be…

_“Watch out babe, I’ll take care of this!”_

        Astrid cried out in anger and alarm as her Viking was shoved roughly by Snotlout’s mech, her foot slamming against the self-righting jets pedal before her own Assault Frame toppled to the ground. She forced down a string of unladylike curses as her Viking staggered to regain its footing, swinging her camera around just in time to see the shot from Snotlout’s smoothbore cannon miss the Nadder’s head by a good two feet.

        The mech’s camera glanced in her direction sheepishly, clearly not seeing the glare she was trying to burn through its armour, _“The light glare screwed up my sights Sarge! I can’t be held responsible for faulty light compen-”_

        Her mood went through a series of highs and lows in a split second as the Nadder suddenly tore around the corner, a wing clipping her subordinates mech and sending it skidding back down the path with a spray of sparks and a satisfying burst of static over her radio. The low came when the crimson camera turned its gaze on her, the Dragonoid’s blasters heating up for another barrage as her console lit up with warning lights. She didn’t have time to think, all she could do was push the Viking into a rapid run, the legs gears screaming in protest as she took off with the Nadder hot on her heels. She watched as the numbers climb on the speedometer, another warning light appearing on her console as a steel wall rushed up to meet her stampeding Viking and the bestial Dragonoid behind it. With no time to stop or alter her course, the Sergeant turned her Viking’s shoulder to the wall and prayed the counterweight attached to it would hold.

        The sound of metal on metal screamed in her ears as the steel partition gave way under the combined weight and speed of her machine, her momentum carrying forward into the next wall and the next. Astrid wasn’t one to just turn tail and run…not anymore…but with barricades of steel in front of her and an alien war machine behind, it was all she could do to keep up the pace as damage lights began going from amber to red across the board…

_“Astrid!”_

        She caught Hiccup’s cry too late. As her Viking burst straight through another of the walls, she barely caught sight of his own Assault Frame in her cameras on the other side before the two machines collided with a horrible metallic crunch. She shut her eyes tight as she felt the Assault Frames crash together against yet another of the partitions, the slab of metal falling flat under their combined weight as they collapsed in a tangle of limbs and locked together weapons.

        “…Ow…”

_“…Yeah…my thought exactly…”_

        The Viking’s cameras were rife with static, the status console filled with red or amber warning lights. But Astrid had to get up. She could hear the sound of the Nadder’s engines as it soared over the remains of the maze, like a bird of prey watching for a good meal. But the jets refused to push her up. The two Assault Frames were locked tightly together by weapons and legs. every time she tried to move, Hiccup’s Viking moved with her. Sparks were flying from the weapons mounts, and she knew if she wrenched them too hard either her cannon or rifle could come clean away.

 _“Astrid, you have to eject!”_ it didn’t help that the radio seemed to be the only thing that hadn’t been broken in some way by the fall, Hiccup’s voice like an urgent tick in her ear as she pulled down the maintenance console from above to try and get the jets back online. _“You can’t…you have to get out of here!”_ She tried to block him out, forcing her hands to concentrate on the console and away from the eject command switch. _“Astrid please, just eject before it gets here! Astrid! ASTRID!”_

        “SHUT UP!” she brought the smoothbore to bear near his Viking’s head, “JUST STOP TALKING! I‘VE GOT THIS!”

As the cannon exploded, his rifle broke away from the Viking’s body, the two machines blown clear apart as the Nadder swooped overhead. With Hiccup’s weapon dangling uselessly from the remnants of the Cannon, Astrid unloaded shot after shot from her rifle into the exposed underbelly of the metal beast, pouring all of her rage into every blast, red paint splattering its body until it collapsed out of sight into what was still standing of the maze on the other side of the Arena.

 _“Alrigh’ simulation over,”_ Gobber’s voice sounded satisfied in her ears. _“Good thinking on ya feet there Hofferson. Could’ve done without the property damage though…”_

        She didn’t hear him finish. She was already halfway out of the broken cockpit, helmet cast angrily aside and hands clenched tight enough to almost draw blood.

* * *

I was only glad I was already halfway out of my safety harness when Astrid decided to pull me free of my Viking. I didn’t have time to wince against the artificial lights as she opened my cockpit from the outside, her hand pulling me aggressively out into the cold air of the arena by the front of my armour as she gave me a look that could have killed angels.

        “Why. Didn’t. You. Move?”

        Each word was laced with venom, her eyes narrowed to slits as she stared down at me from the lip of the cockpit hatch, letting me half stand on the back of my chair. I scowled darkly, pushing her hand away from my neck.

        “I’m sorry,” I snorted sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware you had to have ESP to pilot Assault Frames.”

        “I was coming straight at you,” her voice was a deadly calm as I pulled myself out of the cockpit, but I could see her fist shaking at her side. “You even gave me warning…with the wrong call sign, I might add.”

        I glowered at her as I stood up on the cockpit hatch to my full height…which did little to intimidate her since we were both around the same size. “What can I say? Astrid is easier to spit out than Valkyrie when your sergeant is about to crash into you through a steel wall.”

        Her scowl darkened if that was even possible, “Is this some kind of a joke to you?”

        “No. But I do find it kind of funny that standing still makes me the bad guy here,” I spat back. “I might also find it kind of amusing that you’re taking our first time out with the AFs as though it was our final exam! But you know what I _really_ think is unbelievable? The fact I’m even _having_ this conversation with Arthur Hofferson’s _daughter_ of all peop-”

        I knew I’d gone too far, even before her fist to my face sent me careening off the edge of the Viking. I was just lucky the Assault Frame was on its back, although I certainly didn’t feel like it as my armour plate dug painfully into my back with the landing against hard concrete.

        “Oh yeah…that was stupid…”

        I sat up painfully as Astrid landed beside me, avoiding eye contact.

        “We’re at war McKrillen, in case you haven’t noticed,” I winced at her cool, quiet tone as I rubbed my jaw, “and pretty soon, me and you are going to be stuck in right in the middle of it.” She glared at me coldly. “My Dad chose the wrong way to fight. Which way are you going to go?”

        I didn’t reply. I knew she didn’t even expect one, walking away as calmly as she could without even a backward glance.

* * *

_TIME: 1018 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTHEAST OF DOME TERRITORY, NIGHT FURY LANDING SITE_

 

Her words were still playing over and over in my mind as I found myself back on the broken roads of the village, a fresh medical kit in one hand, the dictaphone ready in my tunic’s pocket and a week's worth of ration packets in a small rucksack on my uninformed back. I was nursing a Dragonoid pilot back to health and trying to it get back home. Somehow, I doubted this was a path even Arthur Hofferson would have considered.

        Once more the forest opened up to the open area of the village centre, with everything pretty much the same as I had left it. The long grass of the playing field still swayed in the brisk wind, the buildings were still slowly decaying, there was still an oak tree in the middle of the school hall…and the Night Fury still lay in the bottom of the crater, right where I’d left it.

        As the rain had begun to fall the last time I was here (currently hard to believe with the bright blue sky above my head), I had dragged the co-pilot’s still sleeping body to rest between the shield/landing plate and the closed cockpit hatch to keep it dry, silently praying that the thermal blankets I’d wrapped around it and the alien’s pilot suit would keep the cold at bay.

        As I scrambled down into the bottom of the crater, however, I gradually noticed several small differences to when I’d last been here. The dying ashes of a small fire smouldered quietly in the shadow of the Dragonoid, the smoke trailing up in the calmness of the crater only to be blown away once it reached the top of the lip. A shallow yet long mound had also been dug a little ways away near the edge of the pond, the soil still dark from being recently unearthed. I only had to notice the slightly bloody helmet that rested on its peak to realise it was the Pilot’s grave.

        But the most important difference was the one concerning my ‘patient’…or rather the fact it had disappeared. The make-shift campsite was completely deserted, and I suddenly realised it had gone incredibly quiet within the crater.

        It didn’t help that I couldn’t shake off the feeling I was being watched.

        I had no weapons, save for the hypoinjector in the medical kit, but to set it up would take time, and I didn’t want to distract myself at the moment. Hesitantly, I shrugged the rucksack off. If I needed to run, I didn’t want any excess baggage holding me back.

        “H…hello?” I tried to call out as I glanced around the crater. “Um…are you still here?”

        I couldn’t imagine the co-pilot would just leave the most powerful Dragonoid The Dome had ever faced to the elements. Would it really try to just _walk_ back to Washington Crater? I turned away from the Night Fury, my eyes scanning the grassy lip above my head, a thick feeling of dread developing in my chest. Hesitantly, I decided to try a different approach, my mouth struggling over words I’d tried my hardest to learn.

        “Co…co…paani…gar…ogir?”

        Are you there?

        “Elek.”

        The voice came from behind me, high above on the Night Fury’s back. And as I turned, I realised how incredibly stupid it had been to turn my back on the only non-earth made thing in the area.

        With a blur of onyx, I felt pain spasm up my back as I found myself on the floor for the second time that day. At least last time I hadn’t had the pleasure of an alien’s combat knife to my throat. The co-pilot had landed perfectly, its knees embedding themselves in the soft earth on either side of my legs, its chest armour pressing against my body as my terrified face stared back at me in the fractured visor, its single visible eye narrowed to a slit.

        I swallowed thickly, all the time aware of the cool metal of the blade lightly pressed against my skin.

        “H…hi…”

        “Ni jorhaa'ir gar aht shekemir ni, lenedat.”

        “Yes, don’t follow you.” I smiled shakily, the central computer’s translations quickly coming to mind. “You said that before, but…I’m here to help.” I felt around for the medical kit I’d dropped, the co-pilot’s eye watching my movements carefully. “See? It’s like the other one. I came to check on this,” I pointed to the bandage, just visible through the rip in the pilot suit sleeve and slightly dirty, but not the bloody crimson of the one it had replaced. “I want to help…oh what was that word…gaa'taylir!”

        The eye’s dark glare lessened, thankfully along with the pressure against my neck.

        “Gaa'taylir?”

        “Erm…yes?” I’d only self-taught myself a handful of words, and the central computer was hardly a wonderful teacher. What had the co-pilot said before? “E…elek? Is…is that yes?”

        The co-pilot seemed to frown, clearly confused by this small human being struggling to speak its language.

        “I-I brought food too.” I slowly reached for the rucksack, thankfully close by. “I didn’t know if you can stomach our food but…”

        “Vaabir’naas nari!”

        The pressure returned as my hand reached into the bag, the glare returning with it. Clearly, the paranoid pilot thought I was trying to find a weapon.

        “No No! Really, it’s just food!” I pointed wildly to the bag, “Just rations honest just…oh, why didn’t I learn the word for lunch!?”

        I felt a light rumble through the pilot’s armour, something I could only compare with an amused chuckle. Clearly, the alien was getting some kind of laugh out of watching the strange mammal beneath it babble like a maniac. But it still remained suspicious. Not taking its eyes (I presumed it had two) off me, it slowly slid its free hand along the ground to where the rucksack lay, long fingers opening and reaching in, only for surprise to grace what I could see of its face as it pulled out a short ration block clothed in silver wrapping.

        Once again, the pressure lessened.

        “See?” I smiled shakily as the co-pilot examined the packet beside my head. “Just rations. I can’t guarantee it’ll taste good but its probably better for you than the birds or squirrels around he…”

        “Ne'johaa.”

        I had the distinct feeling I’d been told to shut up. Just in case, I quickly complied.

        “Sorry.”

        The co-pilot ignored me, more content to study the ration packet. It seemed to try and sniff the strange block, only realise its helmet was in the way. It looked at me. I smiled warily back. A mental war seemed to be going on behind that cat-like eye. I sincerely hoped killing me wasn’t on the agenda.

        Gradually, the knife left my throat entirely, a sigh of relief escaping my lips as the Dragonoid pilot slowly pushed away from me to sit back on its legs (And with it, my own legs). The knife was still in hand though as it continued to examine the ration. Clearly, I wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Suddenly, it dropped the packet on my surprised chest, the tip of the knife pointed towards my Adam’s apple as it stared down at me.

        Oh yeah, not even near the wood’s edge.

        Slowly, the alien’s free hand reached for the bottom of its’ helmet, eyes never leaving mine.

        It was only when the seal broke and the helmet came free did I realise what it was doing.

        And in that same moment, I realised why the co-pilot’s voice had been so high and…feminine.

        It…her youthful face was long and narrow (looking slightly too small for her body due to the thick armour plate around her neck), coming to a blunted point at her chin, cat-like eyes set just enough into the skull to be noticeable either side her surprisingly pert nose, her ears nothing more than small slightly guarded holes on either side of her head, a small ridge of bone where the outer ear might have been around it keeping the area clear of hair. Her skin, as I’d seen before, was a bone white, contrasting heavily with her thin jet-black eyebrows and long hair; back length locks pulled back into a single slick ponytail held tightly together by woven strands of silver ornamental string that she pulled free from out of the back of her armour and flowed down to the small of her back, a few short bangs allowed to grace her forehead. The co-pilot obviously caught me staring, a dangerous grin spreading across her face revealing a rather deadly looking set of long, sharp-pointed teeth behind her pale lips.

        “Vaabir’naas pir dajun, lenedat.”

        I _really_ wished I knew what she was saying.

        She sniffed tentatively at the ration packet, not entirely sure what to make of it.

        “It won’t taste like much,” the co-pilot glanced at me as I spoke. “Just basic supplements. Everything a human body needs in a meal without any of the bodily waste.”

She stared at me curiously, before turning back to the packet. Hesitantly, she tore the silver wrapping away with her teeth, her eyes taking in the greenish block with an almost childlike curiosity.

        “Kai'tome?”

        “Err…kai…tome?”

        “Kai'tome,” the co-pilot opened her mouth, pretending to eat the block. “Gar epar ibic, vaabir’naas gar?”

        “Oh! You mean…ye-er…Elek…Kai'tome…I think.” If these meetings were going to continue, I really needed to write that Dragonoid/English dictionary.

        The co-pilot gave me a strange look, before returning to her study of the rations. Cautiously, she bit into the corner, chewing it slowly while looking ready to spit it out at any moment.

        Finally, she swallowed with a shrug, “Ni haa'taylir. Yai’yai. Ni eparde dush'shya.”

        She gave me a cautious look as she took a larger bite out of the ration block, probably sizing me up.

        “Tion'jor copaani gar olar?”

        I knew that one: Why are you here?

        I frowned. Surely we’d been over this? I straightened my shoulder (difficult seeing as I was still on my back)

        “Gaa'taylir.” I spoke as calmly as I could. “I want to…gaa'taylir…like here…”

        I reached up to indicate to the wound I’d bandaged the other week, only for the co-pilot to flinch away, getting to her feet with such speed it was as though she’d just been burned.

        “Nayc. K'oyacyi be'chaaj,” I never realised how tall she was as she glared down at me; seven feet at least, maybe seven and a half! “Ni kar'taylir gar chakur ner Ca’furor dajunes. Shi…ba'slanar ni solus.”

        Dajunes…plans. The word had been plastered across the front of a certain document I’d read recently. As she turned away from me to walk over to Alor’s grave, I realised she must have known I’d stolen her impromptu Night Fury manual from the cockpit. Looking back, perhaps taking it without asking hadn’t been the best idea, considering I was trying to help this…woman.

        So. I’d possibly screwed up an extraterrestrial’s first opinion of me. Time to see if I could make a better impression on her second.

* * *

Ruusaan was feeling…uncomfortable.

        For the most part, the co-pilot blamed the little human thing; with its incessant babbling mixed with words she understood. Its’ actions…confused her. First, it threatened to shoot her, then it set Ca’furor free, only for it to find her again and knock her out and steal her schematics. She shook her head suddenly, her knife-wielding hand coming up to touch the bandages hidden beneath her pilot suit. It had redressed her wound, _then_ stolen her ‘cheat sheets’…

        And now it was staring at her.

        She chose to ignore it, tearing another bite out of the tasteless ration block as she came to a stop before her Superior’s grave.

        When she’d awoken, surprised to find herself sheltered from the rains by her own machine and tightly wrapped in a sheet of warm flexible silver, the first thing Ruusaan had done was bury Ca’furor’s true pilot. She had been sick before, her wound probably infected with some microbe of this cold, wet place. She’d had little strength as a result, and the second crash after her liberation didn’t seem to help matters.

        But then that human thing came and knocked her out. And when she’d awoken, her strength had returned, her sickness no more.

        The first thing she did was bury his body. With Ca’furor dormant and no way to reach her home, letting her Superior’s body become one with _this_ place was the best thing Ruusaan could do for him. She knelt down before the mound, passing a gloved hand over the empty helmet with a small smile as she closed her eyes and recited the prayer under her breath so the human thing wouldn’t hear her:

**“Superior, I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.”**

        She would repeat this small tribute to the departed before her over and over for around an Earth hour each waking cycle to sooth the spirit as its body slowly released it back to the Universe, hopefully to be used again.

**“Superior, I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Superior, I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Superior…”**

        She glanced over her shoulder discreetly. The little human thing had sat up, still watching her with curious eyes. She turned away again, trying to focus on her prayers.

**“Superior, I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Superior, I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Superior…”**

        She stopped again. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was still staring at her. Normally she would probably have shot at the stupid creature, or thrown rocks in its general direction to scare it off, but right now all she felt was…exposed. It wasn’t as though she thought she couldn’t fight the human thing off, it was the fact it seemed to be analysing her like a science experiment. No, that wasn’t right…more like a scientist studying a wild animal in its natural habitat. She glanced back again. The human thing was being a bit more discreet, its legs pulled up to its chin, face towards Ca’furor yet still looking her way out of corners of its eyes. She rolled her own green orbs. The planet’s star may be high in the sky, but she wasn’t _completely_ blind.

        Her species was normally nocturnal, a by-product of evolving on a moonlit world where the night was longer than the day by almost two thirds for most of the year. Even when the _Ruus beh Tsad Droten_ had landed on this word, High Superior Zearaan insisted on keeping a similar waking cycle. On a sealed ship, where lighting could be kept at constant levels, this wasn’t much of a problem to emulate. But Ruusaan wasn’t on a sealed ship, and the darkness of Ca’furor’s cockpit was marred by the faint smell of her Superior’s blood that hung in the air.

        At the time, a change in waking cycle to rise with the local star seemed logical, and sleep with the warmth of the fire. Now she was worried the fireball’s heat was frying her brain and dulling her senses. The human thing shouldn’t be such a bother; an itch easily scratched. So why, _why_ couldn’t she face the problem head on?

        She looked down to the ration block, half-eaten in her hand. The reason why became apparent almost immediately.

        Ruusaan sighed bitterly, her shoulders sagging inside her armour as she turned to face the little human thing fully. She could finish her Superior’s prayers later…

        Only to find it was missing.

        The co-pilot blinked in surprise, her emerald eyes darting around the crater uneasily. Had it left? Was it hiding in ambush? She cocked her head to one side in alarm as Ca’furor suddenly groaned to life, followed swiftly by a metallic banging sound coming from the opposite side to her a few moments later. Immediately she scrambled to her feet, her mind filled with images of that evil little creature tearing her only chance at getting home apart.

        As she rounded the mech’s head, her eyes widening in bewilderment at what she saw.

* * *

Once again, I was cursing my own ingenuity.

        Even with one of its grappling legs missing and the device itself most likely disabled, the EMP stinger remained firmly clamped to the Night Fury’s side, tiny claws buried deep into the mech’s armour. With my curiosity about the co-pilot severely dampened by the evil looks she kept trying to subtly send me over her shoulder, I decided to make better use of time figuring out why the Dragonoid had crashed…again.

        The A.I. was dormant, for reasons I couldn’t understand. With the pressure Gobber had put us through recently, I’d been lucky to find time to glance through the blueprints to try and figure out why. Although we knew what the A.I. was capable of once the pilot ejected, what its functions were the rest of the time were unknown to us. If the co-pilot hadn’t even been able to get down the road from the original crash-site, perhaps there was more to it just going crazy when its pilot wasn’t around.

        With so little information to go on, I could only conclude that the EMP was still active in some form, weak enough to let the Night Fury recharge, yet powerful enough to reach the A.I.’s personal power core.

        This was why I’d started the Dragonoid up (the only procedure I’d truly burned into my brain) and once again I was pounding against the legs and body of the stinger, sweat pouring down my face despite the cold weather, trying desperately to get something to budge while at the same time wondering why removing the damn thing with bolt cutters in my original plans had been such a wonderful idea.

        Sparks flew through the air as another leg broke clear, a feral grin crossing my face as I tore the poor spindly limb away from the machine. I was determined to remove this thing, even if it killed me.

        And if it wasn’t the problem…I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

        I didn’t even realise my alien companion had been watching me until I felt her shadow across my back, and even then I didn’t turn to look at her. I was just focused on the task at hand. I had to break this damn stinger off the Fury’s side. Because then…

        I paused suddenly, the rock held high above my head. Why _was_ I doing this? Letting the co-pilot go was one thing, but why was I trying to help her get away? I’d bandaged her wounds, given her (hopefully non-poisonous) food, and now I was _actively_ trying to help her escape. Dragonoids were the enemy. Almost nine billion people had been killed because of them.

        So why…

        “Hukaat dayn.”

        I could have sworn I jumped around a foot into the air as a new, larger rock came down on the stinger, sparks flying as the leg I’d been working on and the one below it jarred themselves loose.

        I glanced at my machine’s attacker, the co-pilot staring stonily at the half-wrecked machine and purposefully avoiding my gaze. She indicated to the stinger.

        “Gar’ra riye.”

        I felt a smile cross my lips as I turned back to the device, bringing my rock down hard against the limb. I lost track of time as we continued to toil, painfully pounding away my poor EMP’s legs until they jarred almost completely loose, the co-pilot then finishing the job with a swift slice through the last few springs with her combat knife. The sun was reaching its peak by the time we came to the last two legs, the stinger hanging limply from its remaining limbs. It had been hard work, but between the two of us, we’d probably taken the job down in half the time. Now the two of us held our respective rocks high above our head, breathing laboured and faces sweaty from the hard labour we’d endured, and both (probably) agreeing I would never build something so small and sturdy again unless I had too.

        The limbs came completely away with one last pathetic moan as the rocks came down, a spray of sparks standing out starkly against the Night Fury’s armour as the EMP stinger finally fell to the dry ground with a satisfying thump.

I looked up at the Dragonoid expectantly. Any moment now I expected to see some kind of indication the A.I. was free. The Night Fury stayed dormant, however, only the hum of energy coursing beneath its armour breaking the silence.

        “Damn.”

        “Haar'chak.”

        I checked inside the cockpit, just in case, but the globe within was still dark. The A.I. hadn’t reactivated. I slumped down against the Night Fury’s side dejectedly, the adrenaline quickly draining away as I examined the broken EMP. Now that I looked at it, it was clearly dead. Had I really so eager to get rid of this recent problem in my life I’d just thought the first idea that came into my head was the right one? I sighed again, letting my head rest up against the armoured plate.

        “Well, scratch that idea.”

I was too tired to be surprised as the co-pilot settled down beside me, making sure to keep a decent space between us as she stared out across the crater. We sat there for a moment, not looking at anything in particular and letting the fact our hard work had been for nothing slowly sink in.

        Then…she laughed.

        It started off as a light snigger, something she quickly tried to cover up with a gloved hand clamped across her mouth. The more she tried to hide it though, the more it seemed to want to get out, her shoulders shaking with silent mirth…

        …and it was contagious.

        The more I tried to scowl at the co-pilot indignantly, the less I felt inclined to do so. The stupidity of the situation just felt…funny somehow. Two members of battling species had worked together for possibly the first time in three hundred years…only for all their effort to be completely pointless. It just seemed…funny.

        So I started to laugh too. I just lent my head back and laughed until my sides hurt, the co-pilot doubling over beside me as her own fit of giggles overwhelmed her. It felt so…normal. Like it didn’t matter what species we were, or what side we were on. We were just two people…finding something funnier than it probably was.

        Eventually, the moment began to die down, our hard laughs smoothly making way for the odd chuckle as we wiped the tears from our eyes. I glanced at the alien with a tired smile, watching as she lent up against the side of her machine with a satisfied grin, her eyes closed. It was then I realised I didn’t even know my companion’s name.

        “Alex,” the co-pilot glanced at me quizzically as I spoke up. I tapped my chest. “Alex.”

        “Hal-lax?” she frowned as she tried to sound my name…wrongly I might add. Maybe it was the teeth.

        “Alex,” I frowned myself, tapping my chest again. “My name is Alex,” I tapped her shoulder gently. “What’s yours?”

        The co-pilot cocked an eyebrow in puzzlement. Hesitantly, she tapped me on the shoulder.

        “Hallex?”

I opened my mouth to correct her, then thought better of it. I could work on her pronunciation later. I merely nodded. The co-pilot looked down at the hand that had touched me. Slowly, she tapped her chest plate, looking to me for confirmation, “Ni naas Hallex, serim?”

        I assumed she thought I was referring to my species or something. I shook my head.

        “No, it’s my name. I’m Alex.” I tapped my chest again, admittedly starting to feel a little irritated, before tapping her shoulder. “So if I’m Alex, that makes you…”

        The co-pilot smiled suddenly, realisation dawning in her eyes. She brought an arm across her chest, closing her hand into a fist over her heart.

        “Ruusaan.”

        “Ruusaan,” I repeated, smiling confidently as she nodded with a tooth filled grin. After all, I was the first human being to talk make proper contact with a Dragonoid without a weapon in either of our hands since this war began.

        What wasn’t there to smile about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translation
> 
> Note: Dialogue in bold is dialogue that the speakers understands but isn't speaking in English. If Dragonoid was a series or movie for example, Ruusaan would be speaking the Dragonoid's language.
> 
> "Copaani gar ogir?"  
> (Are you there?)
> 
> "Elek."  
> (Yes.)
> 
> "Ni jorhaa'ir gar aht shekemir ni, lenedat."  
> (I told you not to follow me, target.)
> 
> "Gaa'taylir?"  
> (Help?)
> 
> "Vaabir'naas nari!"  
> (Don't move!)
> 
> "Ne'johaa."  
> (Shut up.)
> 
> "Vaabir'naas pir dajun, lenedat."  
> (Don't get ideas, target.)
> 
> "Kai'tome?"  
> (Food?)
> 
> "Kai'tome. Gar epar ibic, vaabir'naas gar?"  
> (Food. You eat this, don't you?)
> 
> "Ni haa'taylir. Yai'yai. Ni eparde dush'shya."  
> (I see. Rations. I've eaten worse.)
> 
> "Tion'jor copaani gar olar?"  
> (Why are you here?)
> 
> "Nayc. K'oyacyi be'chaaj. Ni kar'tayl gar chakur ner Ca'furor dajunes. Shi…ba'slanar ni solus."  
> (No. Stay away. I know you stole my Night Fury plans. Just…leave me alone.)
> 
> "Hukaat dayn."  
> (Watch out.)
> 
> "Gar'ra riye."  
> (Your turn.)
> 
> "Haar'chak."  
> (Damn it.)
> 
> "Ni naas Hallex, serim?"  
> (I'm not Alex, correct?)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> Apparently today's Author's Notes would go over my end note character limit. Please go to https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6488447/5/Dragonoid and scroll down to the bottom if you'd like to read them.


	6. Section 05: I Saw The Earth From Above

**SECTION 05**

**I SAW THE EARTH FROM ABOVE**

_DATE: NOVEMBER 30, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1522 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY, LECTURE THEATRE S.12_

"…An' with one mighty burst from his plasma mortar, I fell into a world of pain as my arm was seared clear away! Oh, ye should've heard me scream. Nothing wrong with a good blood-curdling scream if ye've been 'urt enough. Speaking of blood…"

I sighed as Gobber descended into a gruesome description of the events that had left him as the cyborg he was today, Waif several rows down emitting a terrified squeak and sinking low into her chair as he began to describe the 'crimson fountains'.

Having worked with the major for two years, and with him being one of my Dad's best friends, I'd heard this story several hundred times in my lifetime. So you can imagine the bored look on my face as I gazed up at the tiled ceiling shrouded in gloom, my feet resting on the top of the empty chair in front of me.

How exactly had a lecture on Dragonoid weak spots turned into Gobber's War Tales was beyond me.

"I'm so angry right now!" I was just about to doze off when Snotlout jumped to his feet in a frenzy. "I'm gonna…I'm gonna avenge your beautiful limbs, sir! I'm gonna break into every Dragonoid I fight and chop off the limbs of every pilot I see…with my face!"

…

_'That made no sense to everyone else right?'_

The stunned silence from the announcement seemed to confirm my thought, although the image of Jorgenson trying to go toe to toe with the 7"5-foot tall Ruusaan (teeth and all) brought a somewhat pleasant smile to my face.

"Well…tha's ah…very thoughtful of ye corporal," Gobber smiled warily as Snotlout was dragged back into his chair by Astrid. "But the pilot should be the least of ya worries. If ye want ta take out a Dragonoid quickly, ye should find a way ta get ta it's power source. Knock tha' out, an' the entire machine is dead inna water, an' we can move in to capture it. 'Course, if ye wanna  _really_ impress the brass, find a way ta take out the A.I. memory core. Tryin' ta find info out without tha' thing going all beastie on us could be a real time saver!"

That's when it hit me, like a bolt of lightning to the brain. It had been staring me in the face the whole time, ever since I first found those blueprints.

Without even thinking, I stealthily rose from my seat and headed for the exit as Gobber warbled on, only aware that Astrid's bemused eyes watched my back until I was out of site.

* * *

_TIME: 1531 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, WEST SECTOR FIVE, MCKRILLEN RESIDENCE._

The lights grudgingly flickered on as I barged into my room, one hand fishing my tablet computer from the desk drawer while other padded down my pockets for a certain flash drive I currently never left home without. It was so obvious, so  _stupidly_  obvious. I opened up the translated pages of the Night Fury manual from the flash drive, flicking through page after page until I found the one I wanted.

_INTERNAL VIEW-TECHNICAL DIAGRAM_

My eyes darted across the page until I found what I wanted. That block, the unidentified module that was placed beside near the power source. Now fully translated, I realised why Ruusaan had highlighted it so urgently.

_A.I. MEMORY CORE_

_**TOO CLOSE TO POWER SOURCE IN**_ _UNABLE TO TRANSLATE_   _ **CONFIGURATION! REMEMBER TARGET'S ATTACK!**_

I slumped back into my chair, letting the tablet fall the short distance from my hand to the desk. In its' Dragonoid configuration, the Night Fury's A.I. memory core was practically right next to the power source. When transformed into humanoid mode, the Core moved with the rear cockpit chair to a position near the mech's head, but the machine was subjected to a direct EMP in Dragonoid mode, like say the one attached to a Stinger missile, the A.I. would be fried. And unlike the power source, there was no chance of a reboot of power once the EMP was removed. A look through the A.I. Construct Protocols, only confirmed what I'd already figured out.

The Night Fury couldn't fly because it had no Artificial Intelligence to help it.

Among its' primary functions, Beast mode notwithstanding, an A.I. was tasked with keeping a Dragonoid stable while in the air. In the Night Fury's case this was even more important than normal; the Dragonoid mode, while fast, was clearly designed to be compact rather than completely aerodynamic, and I didn't want to even think about how the humanoid mode would stay aloft for very long. Without its A.I., it was a wonder that Ruusaan had been able to get the damn thing up in the air at all. She most likely crashed when she tried to transform her machine back into Dragonoid mode, probably to try and get away faster. So if I was to try and get the Night Fury running again, all I needed was to get the machine a new A.I.…

Easier said than done.

My first thought was to try and steal one of the A.I.'s from the Dragonoids we kept at the Arena, but I quickly banished such thoughts. Even if I did find a way to bypass security and download one, I very much doubted even the Nightmare's A.I. could keep up with the calculations necessary to maintain the Night Fury's functions.

That left me with two options, neither of which I particularly liked.

The first was to abandon the Night Fury altogether, but somehow leaving an advanced Dragonoid where anyone could find it didn't seem like the best idea, something I think Ruusaan would agree with me about. This would also leave me with the problem of what to do  _with_  said alien co-pilot. It wasn't like I could just put her in a basket at the end of my bed like a stray animal I felt sorry for. I shook my head as I leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Leaving the Dragonoid to the elements wasn't much of an option. Which just left…

I rubbed a hand across my face. I wasn't really considering going through with this was I? I had no guarantees it would work, no promises anything I did would be accepted by the Dragonoid, both machine and alien.

But if it  _did_  work…

I sat up, determination crossing my face as I flicked through the pages again until I came to the section I needed. It wouldn't be easy, but if the Night Fury was ever going to fly properly again, I was going to have to try and build something no human had even considered building from the day this war began.

I was going to have to program a Dragonoid Artificial Intelligence.

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER 4, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1348 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTHEAST OF DOME TERRITORY, NIGHT FURY LANDING SITE_

"Gar vaabir'naas haa'taylir bid jate."

I ignored the amused looking Ruusaan as I slumped down onto the back of her armour she'd offered me for use as a cushion against the frosty ground in front of the fire. I didn't have to understand the co-pilot to know she'd just made comment about my current state.

My form was hunched over, eyes ringed by dark circles as my joints complained from being in curled over computer screens for hours at a time. Even with the manual's A.I. Construct Protocols in front of me, I'd spent long days and sleepless nights trying to transcribe alien procedures and data files into something human computers could understand. That I'd managed to put together a prototype in around five days was a miracle in itself. Score one for the inventor in me I guess.

"Meg vaabir gar ganar ogir?"

I glanced tiredly across the flames to where Ruusaan sat, trying to ignore how much more…feminine she looked without the armour that now served as our seating. Her emerald eyes were curiously on the tablet under my arm as it beeped urgently. I smiled as I set the computer between us.

"Say again please," I tapped my mouth as I spoke. Ruusaan gave me a strange look, but quickly understood what I wanted.

"Meg vaabir gar ganar ogir?"

_What is that?_

The words appeared on the screen as the built-in microphone picked up her voice, causing a smile to cross my face. I'd managed to install a basic translation matrix onto the tablet's main drive, nothing too fancy or memory clogging. The program was designed to pick out words it recognised from the small pool that had been installed and make form a sentence as similar to it as possible.

Ruusaan's eyes widened as she recognised the Dragonoid script above the translation, "Ni haa'taylir. Bic reddo miit, serim? Mav bic reddo gar'ra miit?"

_I see. It says my words. Will it say yours?_

I shook my head. It was by no means a perfect program. Translating the Dragonoid language was easier because I had a translation matrix to base it on, but for the moment I couldn't translate my own words back, simply because no one had ever thought a Dragonoid and a human being would ever need to have a conversation. I was glad the small project I'd worked on the night before was working well enough.

"I'm sorry we can't have a normal conversation," my words were accompanied by a series of hand gestures and shaking of my head to try and help her understand, "This is the best I can do for now. I'm here to help…Gaa'taylir…and this is how I'm going to do it."

Ruusaan didn't answer, but I think she got the gist of my hand waving. Moving the translation matrix to one side of the screen, I brought up the A.I. construct protocols for her to see.

"Ibic la teh ner Ca'furor dajunes. Tion'jor copaani gar tengaanar ni ibic?"

"This is the reason you can't get Ca'furor to fly," I hoped using the Night Fury's actual name might help. "It has no A.I.," I winced as she gave me a blank look. Of course a human acronym wouldn't make sense to an alien. "It doesn't have this, erm…" I flicked back to the translation matrix, opening a new window and flicking down the list of words, "Ca'furor…nayc…mirshe!"

Ruusaan gave me a weird look, somewhere between confusion and trying not to laugh.

"Te Ca'furor ne'naas ganar mirshe?

_It has no brain?_

I rubbed an embarrassed hand over my face. Wrong word obviously. I brought up the A.I. construct protocols and tapped them, "I call this an Artificial Intelligence. We think of it like a brain for machinery." I tapped the side of my head, then indicated to the Night Fury.

Ruusaan's smile disappeared as she nodded with realisation.

"Gar inno te Mirdala," she glanced up mournfully towards the Night Fury. "Te Ca'Furor Mirdala la dar."

_The intelligence is gone._

"Yes-I mean elek," I nodded as I pulled the flash drive out of my pocket, "But it's okay. I've been working on something that might help."

New files appeared as I inserted the drive into a USB port, the co-pilot's eyes widening in mild surprise as familiar images appeared accompanied a language that from her perspective was almost alien: English.

"It's just an early prototype, so it won't get you home just yet…"

"Te naas ani."

"No, it's not finished," I shook my head, a part of me glad to see I was slowly picking up the language. "I need more data than the protocols can give me. I…" Ruusaan looked up at me inquisitively as I struggled with a line of her language I'd tried to memorise, ""Ni linibar…aht…kebbur ibic…bat te Ca'furor."

I need to try this on the Night Fury.

Ruusaan stared at me quietly, her face unreadable. I didn't blame her for being hesitant. After all, I was asking permission to install untested enemy (in her eyes) technology on an advanced mech on the off chance it might get her back to Washington Crater. I tried not to shrink back under her intense gaze. I felt like I was being analysed like a damned science experiment, while at the same time I felt very…exposed. it wasn't until I started to wonder if the Dragonoids had some kind of clothes only x-ray vision that a smile spread across Ruusaan's face.

"Ori pirusti."

I looked down at the tablet, a smile of my own crossing my lips.

_Very well._

* * *

A few years back, I came across an old movie made well before the Dragonoids had invaded. Funnily enough, it was an alien invasion flick. It was the usual thing really: Aliens arrive, aliens kill humans, America saves the day and all that. But the thing that stuck in my mind about the film was a scene towards the end when one of the heroes interfaced with the alien mothership…using a human laptop. At the time, I'd always wondered if it would be so simple for human technology to interface with alien technology. And as I tried to pull my hair out with frustration, I was very quickly realising the answer to my question.

While rebuilding the A.I., how I was going to transfer the program into the Dragonoid had surprisingly never come up. I had been more worried about building a working prototype and the repercussions of installing a human Artificial Intelligence onto an alien mech, and now I was paying for my short-sightedness. Dragonoid computers were closed circuits; all data was transferred through wires via a computer kept on the mech's home installation. As such, trying to get the flash drive bound A.I. into the Night Fury's Memory Core was hardly…fun.

Wires trailed from the connection port near the A.I. dome to where I sat in the forward cockpit chair, the tri-pointed connection plug lopped off with Ruusaan's combat knife and the protruding wires crudely connected to my tablet through one of the USB ports. I had no idea what this would do to my computer, but it would have to do until I could attach a proper plug to the connection wire… _if_  I could attach one. I was already aware of the odd spark that flared from the exposed wires if I so much as shivered, the tablet feeling unnaturally warm against my knees. Downloading the A.I. was already an annoyingly slow task, the last thing I needed was for my trousers to catch on fire.

"La bic ani?"

I glanced up as Ruusaan's head popped up through the cockpit hatch, her face no doubt a mirror of the bored look I gave her. It also didn't help I had to shut down the translation matrix to speed up the download process. I didn't need to know anything about the Dragonoid language to guess what she'd asked, however.

"Nope, not done yet…for the hundredth time" I shook my head with a strained smile. "Cut me some slack, I'm not exactly enjoying this either you know!"

The co-pilot scowled, making a sound like a cross between a tut and a sigh through her pointed teeth, "Gar vaabir'naas ganar aht orjorer."

I rolled my eyes as she ducked sulkily back outside to continue her lookout, before turning back to the tablet. Considering it was the Night Fury that was really doing the downloading, I had no way of knowing how far along it was until the Dragonoid itself reacted to the presence of the A.I.. I sighed as I leant back in the cockpit chair, my head grazing the bottom of the headrest as I closed my eyes. The cockpit was surprisingly clean when I'd opened the hatch, the blood scrubbed from the chairs, any sharp edges from broken machinery filed down or pushed back into place. Ruusaan had clearly been busy between my visits, but I felt a bit guilty that she'd been repairing the Night Fury's innards all by herself. After all, I was the one who shot her and her Alor down…

I grimaced as I recognised the faint traces of an awful smell, "It's faint but…it still smells of blood in here…"

_"Mirdala nari ani."_

I blinked in surprise as a deep computerised voice rumbled up from behind me, a hopeful look crossing my face as I turned to the rear of the cockpit. Before my eyes, the circuitry patterns that lined the A.I. dome's surface were gradually taking on a crimson hue, the camera in the centre adjusting itself like an iris. I smiled in relief as I turned back to my tablet and hastily disconnected the wires, "Well, glad that's over with…"

_"Tolase: Strena…a-a-a-a-a-as-To-To-To-las-las-…"_

I froze as the voice stuttered over its words, the dim lights flickering as its tone seemed to get higher with every second. As the voice reached an ear-splitting pitch, the cockpit hatch slamming closed and the lights above snapping off, leaving me in total darkness and nothing but the noise to assure me the Dragonoid hadn't killed me.

"This can't be good."

_"…To-To-To-To-To -Sys-las-las-tem-To-To-tem-Sys-To-Sys-las-las-las-System-tem-tem…"_

The voice cut off, leaving me with the realisation of how hard my panicked breathing was.

_"System: Online."_

As the lights flashed on to a blinding brightness and the Night Fury thrummed to life, a quick glance behind me allowed me time to see the last of the red disappearing from the A.I. dome, replaced by a cool blue that seemed to better fit the militaristic female voice that came from the cockpit's speakers…a voice that had started to speak English.

I sat back as I felt the main thrusters ignite.

"No…not good at all."

* * *

Ruusaan heard the sound of her precious Ca'furor long before the mech tried to take her head off.

She had been on her way back to check yet again to see if the A.I. had been moved yet when the machine roared to life, the co-pilot barely having time to leap clear into the pond before Ca'furor took off across the crater floor.

 **"Hey! Where are you going!?"** she spluttered through a mouthful of dirty water.  **"Get back here with my…"**

Her voice died as Ca'furor collided with the side of the crater, realisation dawning as the machine's powerful thrusters pushed it up along the wall and into the air.

**"He has no control…"**

* * *

I was numb, terrified even.

Pressed into the cockpit chair, all I could see was blue sky ahead, clouds streaking past as I watched alien numbers climb on the console before me.

The tablet clattered to my feet as I groped blindly for the control sticks, but both of them were slightly too big for my hands to properly grasp. Even if I'd been able to operate them, I had no idea which stick did what!

The Night Fury continued to climb, the heavens beginning to darken as we soared higher into the sky. A hundred thoughts flashed through my brain as I closed my eyes. What if we breached the atmosphere? Was the Dragonoid safe for space flight? Even if it was, would I have enough air?

I couldn't take it

"Stop…please stop…" I whimpered pitifully, clenching my eyes shut. "Please. PLEASE STOP!"

 _"Home Language confirmed."_  The A.I. spoke calmly. _"Order unclear. Nearest logical order at current flight stage is level out…"_

"YES LEVEL OUT!" I shouted in hysterics. "PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF…JUST LEVEL OUT NOW!"

_"Order Acknowledged."_

The Night Fury lurched, and I had to throw a hand out to stop my head from being smashed against a bulkhead. I didn't open my eyes though, not until I felt the ride smooth and a strangely lighter gravity retake control of my feet rather than my back.

_"Level out complete. Query Pilot: are you incapacitated?"_

I cracked an eye open. I was alive…somehow. I could still feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, but I was alive, that was the important thing.

And I had quite the view waiting for me.

Across all screens, the sky was dyed a dark blue, the Earth curving away slightly near the bottom of my vision. I'd lost sight of England and the rest of the British Isles entirely, what little I could see through the cloud layer revealing vast plains land layered with thick snow.

Then it hit me: I was doing what no human had done for almost two and a half centuries. I was flying.

_"Query Pilot: are you incapacitated?"_

I shook myself from my stupor as I looked back towards the A.I.. Something had gone wrong with its installation. I'll admit my Dragonoid wasn't exactly up to scratch, but I was sure I'd programmed the new A.I. specifically to the details written down in the construct protocols. Maybe something from the tablet's systems got transferred along with the A.I., a problem with the transfer could also explain why the Night Fury had just taken off like that…

_"Query Pilot: are you incapacitated?"_

I shook my head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about such problems. The A.I. seemed to be working, at any rate; keeping the Dragonoid in the air at least, so that was something.

"Yes, I'm currently unable to pilot the Night Fury properly," I smiled weakly at the blue 'eye' that was staring at me from behind. "If you wouldn't mind, could you please return us back to where we took off? Slowly?"

_"Order acknowledged."_

I sighed as the Dragonoid slowly banked in a wide arc, watching as more of the Earth came into view as I strapped myself into the safety harness. The world looked peaceful from up here. You'd never know a war was being fought below. In fact, you'd never even know anyone lived on this small blue and green world if you just looked down on it from up here…

* * *

The skies were starting to darken when Ruusaan heard the familiar sounds of Ca'furor's engines overhead, a pang of relief flitting through her heart as she watched the onyx machine circle the crater and touch down near the pond. Her mind had been plagued by a hundred different worries and scenarios since she'd seen her mech disappear into the sky. She'd been scared and confused, stranded in the middle of unfamiliar territory with a human colony not so far away. She also felt angry though. Admittedly, it probably wasn't Hallex's fault that Ca'furor had taken off as it did, but that split second fear that he'd just abandoned her had stuck in her mind, playing over and again like a projection on a loop. As such, she had a good long lecture for his computer thing to translate for her as he clambered out over the edge of the shield plate…only for it to be lost in an instant as he staggered towards her.

He looked paler than before, his legs a little wobbly, but he was smiling thinly, eyes slightly unfocused.

**"Are you al…"**

She trailed off into a surprised gasp as he collapsed into her arms.

"Sorry," he said weakly into her jumpsuit, "I'm…not feeling so hot."

She didn't understand a word he said, but she felt herself smiling slightly as she recognised the symptoms of air sickness. Her kind considered it to be a healthy reaction when pilots first took to the skies. After all, if a species is supposed to fly, the Universe would give it wings on which to soar.

With a quiet sigh, she gently brought Hallex over to the remains of the fire and knelt down before it, resting his head in the crook of her arm as she hugged him tightly, pulling a thermal blanket around them both to protect them against the coming cold of the night.

 **"Silly little human thing,"** she muttered fondly, brushing traces of his hair off his forehead.  **"Why are you doing so much to help me?"**

Hallex didn't reply, not at first. He just shivered against the cold, turning his head slightly towards her. She felt him smile through her jumpsuit.

"I saw something wonderful today," he murmured, "I saw the Earth from above…"

Ruusaan frowned as she watched him drift off into a fitful sleep, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, and not because of the position she was sitting in.

Hallex was the enemy, yet he bandaged her wounds, brought her food and even managed to get Ca'furor flying again. He wasn't like other humans.  _Why_  wasn't he like other humans? He should hate her kind. He should have shot her the moment he saw she was alive in that moment when they first met. On the other side, she should have killed him the moment he first entered the cockpit. But she hadn't killed him, and he hadn't killed her.

And now here they were; curled up by the low flames of the fire. The danger she was putting herself in by even talking with Hallex seemed trivial at this moment. If her Superiors ever discovered she had been in contact with humans, they would have her killed for treason. And Hallex…she didn't even want to think of what they would do to him if they found it was him who had made contact and meddled with their technology. Chances were good they would hunt him down and drag him back home, torturing him and parading him through the levels like some tournament won prize.

She didn't want that, she realised. Ruusaan didn't want to see Hallex hurt.

She wanted to see him safe.

It was there and then that she made her decision. Holding his sleeping body close, Ruusaan slowly bent down and whispered her promise into his ear:

**"For as long as you need me, Human Hallex, I will protect you from all harm."**

She didn't hear Hallex reply, but Ruusaan swore she saw the human smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAGONOID TRANSLATIONS (POSSIBLE SPOILERS)
> 
> "Gar vaabir'naas haa'taylir bid jate."  
> (You don't look so good.)
> 
> "Meg vaabir gar ganar ogir?"  
> (What do you have there?)
> 
> "Ni haa'taylir. Te reddo miit, serim? Mav te reddo Gar'ra miit?"  
> (I see. It translates words correct? Will it translate your words?)
> 
> "Ibic la teh ner Ca'furor dajunes. Tion'jor copaani gar tengaanar ni ibic?"  
> (This is from my Night Fury Plans. Why are you showing me this?"
> 
> "Ca'furor…nayc…mirshe!"  
> (Night Fury no brain!)
> 
> "Te Ca'furor ne'naas ganar mirshe?  
> (The Night Fury doesn't have a brain?)
> 
> "Gar inno te Mirdala. Te Ca'Furor Mirdala la dar."  
> (You mean the Intelligence. The Night Fury's Intelligence is gone.)
> 
> "Te naas ani."  
> (It's not complete.)
> 
> "Ni linibar aht kebbur ibic bat te Ca'furor."  
> (I need to try this on the Night Fury)
> 
> "Ori pirusti."  
> (Very well.)
> 
> "La te ani?"  
> (Is it complete?)
> 
> "Gar vaabir'naas ganar aht orjorer."  
> (You don't have to shout.)
> 
> "Mirdala nari ani."  
> (Intelligence move complete.)
> 
> "Tolase: Strenaas."  
> (System: Active.)  
> Note: This is what the A.I. was trying to say before it got overwritten.
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> I'm sorry the notes for last week were long and rambling. As I said, I was running late in uploading it (I usually aim for around 5:00pm GMT) so I didn't really look at it that hard before uploading. Ironic that I don't really have anything to say this week.
> 
> So that's it for this week. Next week's chapter's got mentions of Christmas-y stuff in it. Ain't that topical?
> 
> See you all next time!


	7. Section 06: The Changing Times

**SECTION 06**

**THE CHANGING TIMES**

_DATE: DECEMBER 6, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0815 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY ASSAULT FRAME TRAINING ARENA_

" _Tadey is about teamwork. The Zippleback assault tank is one of the hardest Dragonoids ta take down. Two turrets give it a three-sixty degree firing angle. The only way ta take one down is ta take it on as a_ squad _."_

I only heard Gobber's voice with half an ear as acid green smoke billowed from the Dragonoid doors at the end of the arena. My mind wasn't on the job today, it was still back in the village, wondering what Ruusaan was going to do with a Night Fury that could now only operate on English orders. She'd been less than impressed when I'd told her about the 'problem', but she'd been surprisingly content with a promise to try and to fix it.

_"Strafe it. Ruffnut, you're with me on the right. Snotlout and Tuffnut on the left. Fishlegs, Hiccup…stay out of our way."_

I smiled grimly as Astrid's cold voice broke my train of thought. Ever since the 'Nadder incident' in the Arena, Astrid hadn't said more to me than she needed to. I was used to it though. Mention Arthur Hofferson to his daughter and she tended to get…moody with you for a while.

As I backed up my machine towards the opposite end of the Arena, I could hear that sound of mechanical legs from within the thick fog. Fishlegs' Viking seemed uneasy, the camera in its head darting from side to side looking for its target as its pilot rattled off statistics in my ear.

_"Duel barrelled high power energy turrets, twin plasma mortars and anti-personal machine guns…"_

"Yes I know," the camera turned to me, almost as through surprised as I sighed patiently. "I've read the manual too."

I flexed my hands uneasily around the control sticks as the other members of the squad quickly disappeared from view, the greenish smoke throwing up dark patterns and blotting out the artificial lights above.

If Astrid wanted me to stay out of the way, I was more than willing to comply. After all, I just wanted to get through this damn training course in one piece. If that meant pushing my Viking to the furthest corners of the Arena while my sergeant and her real soldiers took all the glory, I was fine with that. But just in case trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible failed miserably, I'd concocted a backup plan that would hopefully save my skin…if Ruusaan's crash course stayed stuck in my brain when it was probably scared out of its' mind.

* * *

The Viking's cameras were blind, her radar a mess of ungainly shapes that looked like neither an Assault Frame or a Dragonoid.

But Astrid was calm, her mind focused on the task at hand. Everything was going to plan. Ruffnut was beside her, Snotlout and Tuffnut were on the other side of the Arena and Hiccup was as far from her as humanly possible with Fishlegs keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't screw up.

 _"Can't see a fricking thing,"_  Ruffnut muttered quietly.

"Just keep calm and stay close," the sergeant growled. "Use the ceiling markings to maintain your bearings…"

 _"I would if I could_ see _the ceiling!"_

"Then just stay close," she rolled her eyes, trying to keep the venom out of her voice. "Don't do anything until my signal. We time this right, we can use the Zippleback's own smokescreen against it. It's just one Dragonoid. We can handle this."

 _"It doesn't stand a chance,"_  even though he sounded confident, Astrid could hear the note of uneasiness in Snotlout's voice.  _"If that Dragonoid shows even an inch of its armour, I'm gonna…there!"_

She barely caught the alarm for incoming fire before red paint splattered across her Viking's right-hand counterweight, a second shot from the mists beyond catching Ruffnut's Viking square in the chest, the great mech falling backwards as its computer registered a killing hit and powered down.

Astrid's anger was quietly simmering as the smoke screen lifted just enough for her to catch sight of her supposed comrades across the arena, their smoothbore cannons still aimed in their direction.

 _"Are you kidding me?!"_  Ruffnut roared from her down mech, accompanied by the distinct sounds of fist banging against the consoles.  _"How could you bastards be so stupid?! Do we look like Dragonoids to you!?"_

 _"Maybe not inside a mech, but have you seen the size of your butts lastly?"_ her brother retorted.  _"Our cannons must've gravitated towards them or something."_

 _"N-not that there's anything wrong with a dragon-esque physique."_ Snotlout stammered as Astrid raised her own smoothbore.  _"I mean a lot of people think it's kinda atrracti…"_

His transmission was cut off with a satisfying crackle as her shot splattered red paint across Snotlout's front. Tuffnut staggering away into the smoke as his comrade tumbled to the ground.

Astrid didn't even smirk with satisfaction as she lowered her weapon. She didn't need people who wouldn't follow orders. She could take down the Zippleback by herself if she had to.

 _"Whoa, tough love eh?"_ Tuffnut's Viking looked down at Snotlout, almost as though the machine itself was pitying the fallen pilot, his voice quickly turning panicky as Astrid raised the assault rifle towards his own mech's chest,  _"but hey Sarge, lesson learned, don't shoot ya team-mates! I got-"_

It was then the grappling hooks tore through his armour; massive rocket-powered spears slicing through his Viking's left shoulder blade and right leg and locked into place by deployable arms that dug into hardened armour.

_"Aw…crap."_

Sparks flew and metal screamed as Tuffnut's mech was violently pulled back into the smoke, his cry of surprise drowned by the sounds of energy cannons and plasma fire.

Astrid heard Fishlegs swallow audibly over her headset as silence reigned,  _"Chances of survival are dwindling into single digits now."_

_"You mean we stood a chance before?"_

"Cut the chatter," the last thing an angry Astrid needed was Hiccup's sarcasm. "Fishlegs, move up. Hiccup, stay back and-"

She barely had time to register the massive leg before it slammed into her Viking, alarms screaming in her ears as her Assault Frame tumbled across the arena. She couldn't breathe, her eyes watering as her mech skidded to a halt. The Viking was lying on its side, the left-hand counterweight crushed under the massive machine's weight. She wouldn't be getting up anytime soon without assistance.

"Dammit!"

Astrid felt pain spasm across her back as her Viking was rolled off its' side, metal screaming as a pointed foot gouged its way through her mech's lower torso as the smoke cleared enough for her to see her attacker.

The Zippleback was considered to be one of the deadliest Dragonoids The Dome was currently faced with. It had no flight capabilities, usually flown in and out by a pair of Nadders, not that it  _needed_  wings to devastate a battlefield. Set upon six insect-like legs and cast in heavy sludge yellow armour, it was designed to cause havoc on the ground and divert the enemy's attention from attacks from the sky. Two high powered energy turrets, each duel barrelled and mounting a plasma mortar between them, flanked the large ridge that housed the two-seater cockpit, a pair of anti-personal machine guns mounted to the undercarriage.

Astrid growled in frustration as she tried to pull her Viking out from under the Zippleback, the main camera embedded into the Dragonoid's diamond-shaped main head (the largest of four; one for each turret and a third and fourth mounted to the machine's front and rear) dominated her forward view. But her Assault Frame was stuck fast, pinned by the single leg through the gut. She was going to die here, she realised as a machine gun swung round to aim directly down her camera. Not on a battlefield, not defending The Dome's inhabitants from the Dragonoids, but on her back in the middle of the Training Arena, Gobber screaming in her ear to eject while the Zippleback leered over her.

She knew it was useless. Fishlegs' Viking was taken out without the Dragonoid even looking up by a well-placed shot to the counterweights and Hiccup was nowhere to be found.

Hiccup. She almost laughed; here she was, staring death in the face and her last thoughts were about Alexander McK-

A resounding boom shuddered through the Arena, the Zippleback stumbling away blinded as red paint exploding against the Dragonoid's head.

Astrid blinked in surprise, her mouth going slack as she took in the scene on her cracked screens.

Hiccup was moving forward and engaging the Zippleback alone.

* * *

"Remaneo Aranov Mircir'daab. Vaabir naas persequor!"

_Continue Defence Lockdown. Do not pursue._

I was repeating the same order over and over again over the private channel I'd established with the Zippleback, trying to blink away cold sweat from my eyes as I unloaded another round from the smoothbore cannon.

The idea was a simple one. Just as the Night Fury accepted verbal commands when the A.I. thought I was injured, so did regular Dragonoids do the same for their alien pilots, albeit in the language I was only just starting to understand. Ruusaan had helped me memorise a series of orders that would help me stay alive by broadcasting them to my attacker over an encrypted frequency.

I knew I was taking too many risks. So many things could go wrong right now. Gobber could pick up the link between me and the Dragonoid. Someone might hear the alien's language over an accidentally open frequency. Worse still, if I miss-pronounced any words, the A.I. was sure to realise the ruse and lock me out, meaning a whole lot of trouble for everyone.

I'd taken every precaution both me and Ruusaan could think of though. Closed off the primary radio, encoded the Dragonoid's channel on the secondary set, etc. As far as I knew, the only audio connection I currently had to the outside world was to the Zippleback, and right now I was focused on ending this fight as quickly as possible. Stuck in Defensive Lockdown, a Dragonoid diverted all available power to energise the armour plating, giving a possibly downed machine an extra layer of defence until help arrived or the pilot could eject.

Now a last line of defence was helping me by keeping the target still…ish, its' only movements coming from staggering as I unloaded shot after shot into its side. Training paint splattered over the Zippleback's yellow hide and turrets as I moved between it and Astrid, my hands physically shaking as I ordered gave the mech its next order.

"Barycir carudha'haase."

_Deploy smokescreen._

More green smoke billowed out from the Zippleback's dispensers, thickening the residual mist that had been left from the previous smokescreen as I moved towards the failing machine. I performed a last minute scan as I approached the machine; everyone was clear of me, even Tuffnut, who was currently running away from the wreckage of his Viking as fast as his legs could carry him as he screamed to anyone who'd listen about the massive injuries the Dragonoid obviously hadn't incurred.

I placed my Viking before the Zippleback's head, raising the smoothbore cannon to the Dragonoid's main camera. I'd made too much of a display, I realised. The orders I'd memorised were supposed to be for an emergency, a way to give any attacking Dragonoids pause until Astrid or someone else would probably rush in and 'rescue' me. The rest of the squad was down, and no matter which way I might have tried to end it, I could only see one way of ending this without looking like a bigger idiot than my 'comrades' already thought I was.

"Vhetin nedaab ateas: solus oyayc ca'nara."

_Begin shutdown period: one waking cycle._

One of the Zippleback's heads seemed to look up at me as one by one its systems began to switch off. It seemed…to understand somehow.

_"Mav gar sushir?"_

I frowned as the Dragonoid's words seemed slurred in my ears as the last of the mech's power left it and its entire formed sagged. Even if it was just a machine, I felt dirty using all these tricks to take the Zippleback down. Closing my eyes and looking away, I quickly pulled the trigger.

* * *

Astrid heard the shot as she pulled herself from her Viking's wreckage; a bone-shuddering thud of a mecha-sized smoothbore cannon. The smokescreen still hung thick in the air like a poisonous green cloud, blotting out any chance of snatching a glimpse of Hiccup or the Zippleback. Across the Arena, where the smoke was a little thinner, she could make out Gobber struggling into his own Assault Frame, the two yellow civilian Vikings lumbering towards the haze.

So, the simulation was complete. A part of Astrid was relieved her personal nightmare was over, but that didn't stop her heart from thudding painfully fast in her chest.

Hiccup was nowhere to be found, and this wasn't due to his usual evasion to combat. She'd tried to get through to him as he charged into the smokescreen, ordering him to pull back and so on, but his radio had been dead for whatever reason, and that only made her worry even more. After all…having the son of General McKrillen killed in the Training Arena under her command was hardly something Astrid wanted on her record. That was the excuse she was giving herself as she ran towards the edge of the smokescreen. It had nothing to do with them being friends years ago,  _that_  much was certain.

"Hiccup!" her voice was barely heard over the clanking of Gobber and the civilian Vikings as they lumbered towards her. "Hiccup, answer me!"

The cloud was silent, giving no hint of anything alive beyond the pea soup before her. She flexed her hands uneasily, resisting the urge to go in and find him herself. A suicidal move, considering she didn't even know what state the Zippleback was in.

"Alex…" her voice was barely a whisper now, afraid any of her squad mates that were convening behind her might hear. "Come on, Alex. Where are you?"

It was then that she heard it; the unmistakable grinding of machinery from within the smoke. She thought she heard Gobber in a panic ordering her to get back at the back of her mind, but she didn't move an inch as a shadowy form solidified against the acid green cloud.

It looked…humanoid.

Her posture relaxed slightly as the bright blue light of a Viking's camera pierced through the smoke above her.

"He's okay," she folded her arms as a grim smirk crossed her face as the Assault Frame pierced the cloud. "Of  _course_  he's okay."

Hiccup looked tired and grim as he disembarked his machine, giving his sergeant a wary smile as he found her waiting by his mech's foot.

"Tired of showing off are we?" she asked calmly. "I thought I told you to stay out of the way."

"A Zippleback had an energy cannon pointed at your face," Hiccup's smile became slightly tight. "Did you really want me to just sit around while you got your face fried off?"

"I could've handled it," she was straining to keep her voice calm.

"Of course you could have," the smile was replaced by a scowl as the private swept a hand out behind him. "Sorry, it's been handled for you."

She rolled her eyes and snorted disbelievingly…until the smoke cleared.

Now she saw it, they all did; the slumped form of the Zippleback, legs splayed out in all directions, yellow armour practically dripping in red paint.

"No way…"

"You can check my black box if you don't believe me," she turned back to him in surprise as their squadmates' jaws collectively hit the floor. Hiccup wasn't smiling, wasn't boasting or rubbing it in her face. He just glared at her. No, not a glare. He looked more…disappointed.

And for whatever reason, under all her anger and disbelief, that made her feel very small.

* * *

_TIME: 1019 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTH EAST OF DOME TERRITORY, NIGHT FURY LANDING SITE_

"Tion'jor vaabir gar hiibir an ibic duse?"

I scowled uncomfortably as I dismounted the motorbike, not in the mood for the amused smirk Ruusaan sent my way. Riding along broken roads had been one thing, but riding with a trailer full of Assault Frame cockpit parts was another entirely. The major problem had been I couldn't go as fast as normal, and even at low speeds, the damn thing kept bouncing everywhere and throwing the cycle off balance. You can imagine the sour mood this put me in, especially after everything that had happened at the training arena.

"It's not junk…duse," I muttered agitatedly, mixing English and Dragonoid with the array of hand signs we'd established. "It's plan B…err…" I pulled the tablet from my rucksack, thumbing through the translation matrix, "backup, backup…ah! norac'laam dajun. I don't know if I can fix the A.I.. I've got all kinds of ideas on what might be wrong…dush, and this stuff is here in case I can't fix it."

Ruusaan gave me a sceptical look, before browsing through the parts I'd 'borrowed' from the AF repair yard. Most of it was standard spare parts for a Viking cockpit; control sticks, operation pedals and such. I'd also included a USB attachment in the hopes of establishing a better contact between the Night Fury and my tablet should I need it. Ruusaan gazed at the assortment of tech, before giving me an unconvinced glance.

"Te duse."

"It's not j…weren't you listening…" I cut myself off as I noticed a sly smirk cross her long features. "You're making fun of me aren't you?"

Ruusaan merely smiled innocently (Or as innocently as you can with a mouth full of sharp teeth) as if to say "Who, me?"

"Great. The extraterrestrial is laughing at me," I rolled my eyes as the Co-pilot devolved into a fit of giggles. "I-I can just leave you here you know! See how well you do by yourself against the…the trees and…crickets…"

I felt my shoulders slump as Ruusaan just seemed to laugh harder. It didn't matter if she hadn't understood me, there was hardly a trace of a threat in my voice.

I wouldn't leave her alone, and we both knew that.

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER 13, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0903 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY ASSAULT FRAME TRAINING ARENA_

It had just…stopped.

Had Astrid not seen it with her own eyes, she would have smacked the person who told her for lying through their teeth. But she had seen it, and she still didn't believe it.

The Gronckle had just…stopped in mid-flight. One minute it was charging towards Hiccup, energy cannons blazing, the next it was digging a trench across the length of the arena, red paint dripping from its underbelly and wings.

He'd done it again; Hiccup, of all people  _Hiccup_  had brought down two Dragonoids single-handedly, his Viking barely scratched and leaving a trail of mouths agape in his wake. And now they were cheering, gathering around the idiot as he disembarked his Assault Frame and bombarding him with praise and questions.

Astrid felt her grip tighten around the control sticks, her eyes narrowing to slits. Just two weeks ago everyone ignored him. Two weeks ago he was bottom of the pile. Even Fishlegs was doing better than him. Now suddenly he was a big celebrity. He was already clear over half the other AF trainees in the ranks and this latest victory of his was only helping him push further.

Astrid sighed, letting the anger flow away with her breath. So Hiccup had beaten two Dragonoids, it wasn't a big deal. If anything, it made Nu Squad look better, and it probably bolstered the private's self-esteem somewhat. His luck could only go on for so long after all, so he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

* * *

_TIME: 1233 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTH EAST OF DOME TERRITORY, NIGHT FURY LANDING SITE_

"I'm getting noticed."

"Meg?" Ruusaan popped her head out from under the forward control panel, watching me curiously over the top of my tablet.

"Noticed. Erm…ulur." I didn't take my eyes off the transfer program, the last one we'd agree to try before we tried plan B. My hands still moved with my words though, almost on instinct. "I'm starting to stand out…motir dayn. The other guys are starting to ask questions and I think Gobber is keeping a closer eye on me."

"La meyg dush?"

_Not good?_

"No, not good." I frowned as I saw another carefully planned transfer route slowly crumble before my eyes. "And this isn't good either." I slumped back in the co-pilot seat and showed my friend the numbers. "Another dush dajun. Something is corrupting the A.I. It might not even be the transferral that's doing the damage. Maybe it's a programming error or something to do with human computers…" I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, irritated. If everything had gone smoothly, Ruusaan could have been flying home weeks ago. But this one problem, this  _one_  breakdown in communication between pilot and computer was standing in her way. It  _had_ to be a human element. That was the only explanation. I'd written the creation programs in Dragonoid, transcribed the data strands word for word from the A.I. construct protocols section of Ruusaan's manual. At no point had I even considered using the English language in the A.I.'s construction. I mean what would have been the point in using a language the pilot didn't even speak?

My train of moping was suddenly cut short as I felt Ruusaan's hand on my head, twisting locks of my hair between her long fingers. I opened my eyes and stared pathetically at her. She merely smiled encouragingly, her head resting on one arm and cocked to one side.

"Plhan B?"

I smiled in return as I closed down the tablet, "Plan B."

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER 20, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1933 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY, MESS HALL_

Sergeant Astrid Hofferson was in a bad mood.

She was sitting alone, prodding something the chef claimed to be 'Turkey Surprise', scowling at the little gathering across the hall.

He'd done it again. She didn't know how, but Hiccup had managed to take down another Dragonoid without breaking a sweat. That had made him…popular. It made Astrid want to gag, seeing people change their opinions of one soldier so quickly. People like Snotlout and the Thornston twins, who had taken great pleasure in deriding and humiliating Hiccup every day since pre-school were now crowding around him, clapping him on the back and trying to prise tips and tricks out of him. Fishlegs had even deemed his friend worthy of being seen in public with. Girls on the nearby tables, who before would never have considered even giving Hiccup the time of day, were now tittering amongst themselves and sending interested glances his way. Waif, in particular, kept going a deep shade of red and squeaking whenever she actually met McKrillen's gaze, which only annoyed Astrid more for some reason. Even the officers were talking about this one insignificant soldier that they had been so indifferent about only a few weeks before. She'd even heard Gobber giving him a promotion to corporal for his efforts!

All this, all because Hiccup was on a lucky streak. It made her blood boil. The Zippleback had been pure chance. The Gronckle was easy once you got it cornered and the Nadder…well, she hadn't figured out how he'd managed to down it yet, but it couldn't have been that hard. Yet the way the hypocrites were going on about it, anyone would have thought Hiccup (of all people) would end the war all by himself.

Astrid closed her eyes, willing herself not to entertain the thought of throwing her dinner in her subordinate's (probably) smug face. There were still a few weeks to go before the final examinations, and Hiccup was still far down the list. It didn't matter to her though. Even if Hiccup made it all the way to second place (and she scoffed at such a thought), even if it was just him and her one that last leg of the exams (which she really doubted), it wouldn't matter.

Because Astrid knew she was better than him. Better than  _all_  of them. And more importantly, when that final exam arrived, she would prove once and for all that she was not her father's daughter.

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER 20, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1453 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTH EAST OF DOME TERRITORY, NIGHT FURY LANDING SITE_

"Aht bic jii."

_Try it now._

"Alright, here we go," I settled back in the newly adjusted chair, letting my feet settle against the control pedals as my hands danced across the various consoles.

No part of the cockpit had been left untouched in our efforts. Entire consoles had to be lowered along with the chair in order to accommodate my smaller (by Dragonoid standards) stature, various labels of translated alien script stuck under their corresponding buttons and switches. The control sticks had been switched out with the ones I had taken from the AF Repair Yard, the pedals slightly raised with the lowering of the chair to meet somewhere in the middle. Everything was almost ready for a test flight…provided we'd hooked everything up properly of course.

"CPG Setting complete, ion concentration nominal, meta movement parameters updated, power source and energy flow normal, systems all green. Alright, so far so good."

"So fah so gud." Ruusaan grinned as she stuck her head through the open hatch. "Naas munit jii staabi?"

"No, it shouldn't be much longer," I agreed. The two of us had already worked out a rough mission plan. Once we'd performed some flight tests and I had accustomed myself to flying the Night Fury, it had been decided I would fly Ruusaan out to the east coast of North America and drop her outside of the radar range of Washington Crater. On the way back I would then dump the Dragonoid mech in the ocean before I hit England and then take an inflatable raft to shore. Theoretically, the plan would commence with the next Dragonoid raid, the idea being I could say I'd gotten myself caught on a Nadder's claw as it swooped in low and didn't manage to break free until I was over the Atlantic (at a safe enough distance from the water that I wouldn't break every bone in my body on impact of course). It might have been full proof…if it hadn't been so quiet on the home front lately.

Gobber thought it was probably Dad's assault diverting their attention, but whatever the reason, no Dragonoids had darkened the skies over The Dome since  _Dauntless_  had left port. Don't get me wrong, not having to worry about fighting for my life almost once a week was refreshing, but it made the sudden disappearance I needed to stage incredibly difficult.

I shut the Night Fury down with a sigh. I was starting to feel like rebuilding the Dragonoid had been the easy part of this plan. There was still a lot of work to be done of course, and I was determined to make at least one test flight before I flew as far as America. That was still at least a week away though. In the meantime, I had an all-around different problem to contend with, back at The Dome…

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER 24, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 2022 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY, HAND WEAPONRY SHOOTING RANGE_

The Academy was quiet tonight; the sounds of Christmas festivities a long way off in other less military parts of The Dome. The complex's buildings were dark and tranquil, devoid of life save for a few cleaners hurrying to finish their work and get home to their families, and a certain blonde haired Sergeant making her way towards the hand weaponry shooting range.

Astrid felt drained, like someone had lined her uniform with lead. It was the stress, she had reasoned. The pressure of staying in top form, the constant annoyance that came with leading a squad of fools and the sheer insanity she must be experiencing as she watched Private…no  _Corporal_ Alexander 'Hiccup' McKrillen's name slowly climb the rankings. Before, the mention of the last one alone was enough to make her blood boil. But tonight, it was as though the wind had been taken out of her sails, and it was all came down to a single comment made by Tuffnut (drunk on mulled wine and festive cheer) over lunch that day:

_"The guy's a natural! It's like he's not even trying! I'm telling ya Sarge, he's so much better than you ever were!"_

After throwing the inebriated corporal into the nearest brick wall, all of Astrid's energy had just seemed to vanish. Because deep down, as much as she was loathed to admit it, Hiccup had achieved in a few weeks without breaking a sweat what she had pushed herself to gain in years; the respect of his peers as an unmatched (almost, he hadn't taken her top rank just yet) Assault Frame pilot and soldier of The Dome. While she had trained endless hours in AF simulations, honed her skills in battlefield tactics and pushed herself  _by_  herself to become the greatest student the Military Academy had ever produced, he had sat shunned by his peers into the corners of classrooms, developing endless new inventions that either failed to work the way he wanted, exploded or both. Now he was adored by everyone he met, praised by Gobber for the flawless takedowns of every Dragonoid he'd ever gone up against since the Zippleback while  _she_  became the shunned one. She had been pushed aside by his fans, her own achievements all but forgotten.

If it had been anyone else, even Fishlegs or Snotlout, she might have been a bit more accepting. At least they were proper soldiers, loyal to The Dome and her people. Sure, people like them were idiots, and the likelihood of them ever coming close to surpassing her was remote at best, but they weren't Hiccup. And that was important to Astrid. Because of what he was, because of what he'd done.

As she picked up a pistol and ammo from the racks, the memories flooded back to her against her will; of a rainy night nine years ago. A night of tears and sorrow, the end of the day her life had come crashing down with a harsh reality.

April 3rd, 241 A.D.E.. Before that date, she'd never even considered remaining with the Military Police after her compulsory service. Her nine-year-old mind was filled with thoughts of following in Daddy's footsteps; rubbing shoulders with the political elite and rising through  _their_  ranks. Tension within The Dome was at an all-time high with Arthur Hofferson in charge, but Astrid hadn't fully understood why. At least, not at the time. She would later realise it was his policies; the constant pushes he made as Mayor for a peaceful end to a war that had lasted over two centuries, that had caused the rifts to form within Dome society, most noticeably between the Dome Council and the Military Police. Mayor Hofferson's call to try and open diplomatic negotiations had been met with uproar from many of the generals that made up the military brass, understandably so now Astrid could look back with an older mind. After all, what person in their right mind would want to negotiate with a race that had mercilessly almost wiped out the human species? But her father had remained determined. He, as with many of on the Council, were tired of war. They were tired of hiding in shelters while the Military Police and their Assault Frames defended them from an enemy whose motives they knew next to nothing about. The brass, on the other hand, felt such speculations were meaningless. Who cared why the Dragonoids had killed so many? The important thing was that they were, and were continuing to do so if the reports they received from the newest refugees was anything to go by. As far as they were concerned, the best way of ending this war was with a nuclear warhead straight to Washington Crater…if they could ever get their hands on one.

Mayor Hofferson had been stubborn however, and refused to bow to the Military Police's demands. He had kept telling both the Council and his daughter that something must have changed drastically between the Dragonoids and the United States for the aliens to have broken fifty years of peace. And on that day, April 3rd, 241 A.D.E., he made the decision to ask the Dragonoids themselves.

It was decided that her father himself would make the trip, taking with him a small crew and a single Cerberus class mobile fortress, the CMF  _Paladin_.It was hailed as a diplomatic mission; the first step towards ending the war. Astrid remembered as she loaded her pistol with training rounds standing on the observation platform with her mother, Miranda Gothi and the other members of the Dome Council. She could hear the sounds of music and celebration as the  _Paladin_  moved away from the harbour. She remembered glancing at the nine-year-old Alex sitting next to his father (the only military presence there on the day now she thought about it) as she aimed down the sights to the target at the end of the range, refusing to smile at faded images of his blushing cheeks and awkward grin that came with the memory.

And as she fired the first shot, she remembered the wail of the alarm klaxons and the first explosions of battle.

Joyful cries and shouts had become panicked screams of terror and fear as the Dragonoids swooped out of the sky, the mechanical roar of the harbour gates rolling shut as the Military Police mobilised and moved their Assault Frames out. She felt her mother's hand slip from her own as Representatives scrambled to get to safety, only for Alex's to take its' place and drag her along towards the shelters. She remembered running through hordes of terrified citizens, the sounds of bullets and energy fire echoing up into The Dome's high ceiling. But most importantly of all, she had turned just in time to see the  _Paladin-_

"You're here late."

Astrid jumped, letting loose a string of silent curses at being snuck up on as she swung the pistol round to the forehead of the intruder. She almost dropped the gun in surprise as she took in who it was, and the realisation only made her tighten her grip.

Hiccup for his part seemed fairly relaxed for a man who currently had the end of a gun barrel pressed to his forehead. Her eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing here?"

The corporal rolled his eyes and pushed the gun out of his face as he walked past her, "It's a shooting range Astrid, what do think I'm here for?"

"It's past 2000 hours."

" _You're_  here aren't you?"

The sergeant faltered as she tried to come up with a counter-argument. To her annoyance, nothing came to mind. She turned her attention back to Hiccup, watching him suspiciously as he loaded a magazine into a pistol of his own. He was still in uniform, the same as she was, rumpled from a day's wear. That meant he hadn't changed, which probably meant he hadn't gone to the Christmas party.

"You're not down in the Mess Hall."

He shook his head as he picked up the safety gear, "Nope."

"Why?"

"I need a reason?"

"If I say you do."

He glanced at her, mid-step towards a free lane, quietly taking in her stony gaze. He sighed.

"I just don't like the attention," he said finally. "That good enough for you?"

"No," the gaze became a glare as continued to walk. "I thought you'd be jumping for any attention that wasn't following something of yours blowing up."

"I guess I didn't realise how much of a pain it would be," he replied neutrally, geared up and aiming down the sights. "I didn't know how annoying Snotlout really was until he had me pinned under his arm, singing my praises to anyone who would listen. I didn't think girls stealing glances when they think I'm not looking everywhere I go could ever get old. Mostly I didn't think the entire Dome would go stir crazy over me just because I'm doing well in AF Training." He smiled wryly, "I never wanted that kind of attention Astrid, that's your department. I just wanted people to know me as more than just a screw-up. I wanted  _him_  to know me as more than just a screw-up."

Astrid didn't say anything, not until three shots from Hiccup's pistol had sliced through the paper target at the end of the range. When she spoke again, even she was surprised at how quiet her voice was.

"So, you're not down in the Mess Hall because you don't like to party. I get that. Why are you here?"

Hiccup paused, then unloaded the last of the magazine into the target. He turned towards her slowly, pulling the earmuffs to around his neck and his safety goggles onto the top of his head.

"What do you want me to say, Astrid? I came looking for you?"

"Did you?"

"Yes," the answer came without pause as he set the pistol down. "I mean you've been a bit…on edge lately. Can you blame a friend…"

"You're not my friend."

Her voice was deadly cold and barely a whisper. Hiccup frowned slightly.

"You don't deserve to be my friend," she continued, her eyes never leaving his. "Not after what you did."

The frown became a scowl, "Because I tried to tell you the truth?"

"Because you tried to feed me a lie!" she spat every word out with venom. "Because of what you tried to convince me of! Even now I still can't figure out what you were trying to do, what your motives were…"

"I was nine!" Hiccup threw his hands up in the air, esasperated. "I didn't  _have_  any motives! I was only trying to help a friend who was hurting. A friend who was surrounded by bureaucrats feeding her bullshit just to fuel their own agenda. I thought if you knew what actually happened-"

"I know what happened, dammit. I was there, and so were you," Astrid laughed hollowly. "And that's what makes it all so stupid. Because you were there too, Alex. You were right there beside me when the alarms sounded. You saw the Dragonoids attack," she finally looked away. "You saw what they did to the  _Paladin_."

"What I saw was Nadder nose-dive her," Hiccup spoke softly, carefully approaching his commander. "What I saw was the  _Paladin_  explode as it flew away. But what I  _read_  later made me doubt everything I saw." He was at her shoulder now. When she didn't reply, he continued. "Your Dad…he was hardly a guy without enemies. I mean he was talking about finding a peaceful solution to end a war with a race that almost wiped humans from the face of the planet. The fact he thought the war was all started from a mistake didn't exactly help his case. Most people were amazed he even got into office. A lot of those people were in the Military Police." He paused again. Still, the sergeant didn't speak. She didn't even look at him. "Astrid…even if you don't believe me, you know what I told you is at least possible…"

He cut himself off when Astrid sighed. She suddenly felt very tired, the memories of that damned night beginning to weigh down on her again.

"It was all a conspiracy," she said quietly. "Just a small group of people that opposed my Dad's ideals. They corrupted his communication to Washington Crater, made it look like he was gloating over a nearing victory for The Dome. They knew how the Dragonoids would react. They knew they'd send their mechs. And when one such machine dipped too low, all their agent aboard had to do was flip the switch. The Military Police found out too late. But instead of publishing the findings of the investigation, they used the late Mayor's death to their advantage. They spun lies and propaganda about how the peace-loving Arthur Hofferson had been brutally slain by the warmongering Dragonoids. That's what you told me Hiccup, but even if I knew where you got your information, I'll never believe that."

Her corporal's face fell.

"Why?"

"Because it's easier to hate the Dragonoids. Look at what they've done Hiccup; they've almost wiped out our entire civilisation for reasons we don't even understand. Even if Dad was right, and this whole war was started with a mistake, that doesn't excuse what they did to us. He had to die for me to figure that out, and now I have to prove to everyone that I'm not my father's daughter. I don't support his stupid ideas, and I know who my enemy is. My family's name is mud because of Arthur Hofferson, and I now know I have to surpass everyone around me to ensure only  _his_  name is ground into the dirt." She finally turned her gaze back to him, her expression unreadable. "It's easier to hate Dragonoids then believe your theories and things you say you've 'heard', even if that means I have to hate you in the process."

Hiccup didn't say a word, not even as she turned to leave. All he did was watch as she headed for the door.

"The final AF exams are in a few weeks," she didn't turn to face him. She just kept walking. "If you don't like the attention Hiccup, just stay out of my way. It'll be gone in no time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Remaneo Aranov Mircir'daab. Vaabir naas persequor!"  
> (Continue Defence Lock-down. Do not pursue.)
> 
> "Barycir carudha'haase."  
> (Deploy smokescreen)
> 
> "Vhetin nedaab ateas: solus oyayc ca'nara."  
> (Begin shutdown period: One waking cycle.)
> 
> "Mav gar sushir?"  
> (Will you listen?)
> 
> "Tion'jor vaabir gar hiibir an ibic duse?"  
> (Why did you bring all this junk?)
> 
> "Norac'laam dajun."  
> (backup plan.)
> 
> "Te duse."  
> (It's junk.)
> 
> "Meg?"  
> (What?)
> 
> …ulur..  
> (notice)
> 
> "…motir dayn…"  
> (Stand out.)
> 
> "La meyg dush?"  
> (Is that bad?)
> 
> "Dush dajun."  
> (Bad plan.)
> 
> "Aht bic jii."  
> (Try it now.)
> 
> "Naas munit jii staabi?"  
> (Not long now right?)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> Why yes, I did just make a 7000 word chapter mostly out of a five minute montage in film, thank you for noticing :)
> 
> One of the hardest things to write throughout the story was the language barrier between Alex and Ruusaan. Originally, it was completely one sided, with Alex speaking to Ruusaan in her own language or using a Universal Translator-esque device. But I felt this would be boring to read, especially when I'd have had to subtitle everything. This compromise, with Alex and Ruusaan picking up bits of each other's language, hopefully conveys a growing level of equality between the two of them. The translation matrix only translates Dragonoid into English and not vice versa to maintain this gradual breaking down of language barriers for as long as possible. If I'd created my own language at the time, I would probably have made a better excuse that English syntax doesn't translate well in real time into the Dragonoid language, but seeing as most of the alien speak is just Mando'a with English syntax I didn't think the excuse would stick. "Because the plot demands" is the actual reason.
> 
> Ruusaan's mangling of the English language was inspired by how the Jägermonsters from the Girl Genius web comic speak. This had a knock-on effect of having Ruusaan's dialogue take on an Eastern European or Russian-esque accent in my head. At time of writing, I would say Ash Sroka (Tali'Zorah, Mass Effect 2 (after she got the vocal nuances more uniform)) would probably be a good to be her voice actress for your internal voice actors to emulate. She's very good at "unidentifiable pseudo-Eastern European".
> 
> This chapter showcases my attempts to expand on Hiccup and Astrid's relationship prior to the start of the film, and how it eventually soured. As I said before, I never really saw Astrid as a bully on the same level as Snotlout and the twins, and just felt like there was an interesting story as to why she gave him the cold shoulder. Originally, I think, it was a bit more cut and paste. Dragonoids were evil; Astrid grew up thinking that and got stronger, Alex grew up thinking that and for one reason or another didn't. Astrid in turn began to distance herself from him when she realised he wasn't on her level and abandoned him completely after the two had one of those friendship ending fights. Arthur Hofferson and his part in their split up came with the development of the Dragonoids, but more on that at a less spoiler-y time.
> 
> Alright, that's all for today. Have a good Christmas/festive season, every single one of you!


	8. Section 07: A Taste of Oil

**SECTION 07**

**A TASTE OF OIL**

_DATE: DECEMBER 30, 250 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1408 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, EAST SECTOR SEVEN, MOBILE FORTRESS HARBOUR, DOCKING PORT THREE_

It wasn't the return home Stoic had imagined.

Always the optimist, he'd seen the  _Dauntless_ cruising smoothly across the land towards his beloved Dome with victory in hand. His casualties would be light, and what men remained would be tired but happy at a job well done.

Then again, reality was a harsh mistress.

 _Dauntless_ was long gone. Her wreckage, gouged with holes melted through by intense energy fire, was now somewhere at the bottom of the Atlantic, as was most of her crew and Assault Frames. The Dragonoids had torn her apart with brutal efficiency, the dead long gone before they knew an energy blast had even pieced the bulkheads. Stoic himself had only survived due to Spitelout dragging his semi-conscious form to the lifeboats, yelling something he could barely hear over the explosions about the Military Police and Alex. He stayed awake long enough to see  _Dauntless_  be swallowed up by the waves before the concussion took him, much to his embarrassment. Now a single Assault Frame Transport dragged itself into port; listing badly to one side, its hull scorched with plasma burns. Her launch bay, now missing two of its Assault Frames, had become a makeshift medical bay,  _Dauntless'_  wounded lain out on rugs or even bare deck as medics and volunteers darted between them. Stoic had not stayed with them for long. Once he'd come back to the world of the living and been bandaged up, he headed up to the Bridge, away from the pain and screaming. He'd failed these men and women. He'd failed those who had died. All staying in the launch bay did was remind him of how badly he'd screwed up.

Gobber was waiting for the transport to come in, along with the families and friends of those who had set off with the fleet and most of The Dome's medical division. Miranda Gothi wasn't among them, the General noted thankfully. The last thing he really wanted to do was face the Mayor right now.

He was the last man off the transport, a practice he and every Military Police commander before him had taken up since the start of this war. It told everyone that there was no one left on board, and those that hadn't been reunited with friends and loved ones should just go home.

He didn't say a word as he walked away from the dock, Gobber falling in line beside him. He didn't look at the tearful reunions or listen to the sounds of mournful crying. He just kept walking. Even Gobber didn't speak until they reached Central Tower and the General's office within it.

"It didn' go well then I take it."

"It didn't go, period," Stoic grunted quietly. "We didn't even get to the beaches, Fergus. We lost the first AF Transport in the first attack with all hands.  _Dauntless_  sunk as we tried to retreat after the tenth try to get through. They just kept coming, beating us back."

"At least they didn' go after the lifeboats," Gobber said hopefully. "Gregorio, ye've got half the crew in tha' transport. Half a crew back is better than no crew at all."

"It's still only half," Stoic retorted, slumping into his chair, " _and_  we lost most of the Assault Frames. I hope you had a better Christmas then I did."

"Not bad, not bad," the major shrugged casually as he dumped himself into a nearby chair, ignoring the protesting creak. "Made some good choices with the AF recruits. Astrid Hofferson's up at the top o' the rankings o' course," a sly smile crossed his friend's face. "We had a few surprises though at who currently comin' second."

"Egil's boy finally get his act together did he?"

"Snotlout? Nah. Try again."

"One of the Thornston twins?"

"Nope."

"Surely not Ingerman?"

"Ooh, close! But no."

…

"It's not Waif is it?"

"Now ya getting desperate." Gobber chortled smugly. "Think closer ta home," He tossed The Dome's newspaper onto the desk between them. "Or ye could look up the Rankings board. Thatta work too."

Stoic gave Craigson a strange look, before opening the paper to the back pages with a heavy sigh.

As he took in the article he needed, however, he almost crumpled the tabloid in surprise. He stared at Gobber over its' top, open-mouthed. The major merely continued to grin.

"Is it April 1st already?"

"Far from it," Gobber leaned his head in his synthetic hand with a lazy smile. "Gregorio, tha' boy o' yours is  _incredible_. I've never in my long life seen someone take down Dragonoids the way 'e does. It's…effortless. It's like 'e knows where and when to strike in an instant. 'E's threatening Astrid o' all people. If 'e keeps it up, 'e might even surpass her as the top o' the class."

The General leant back in his chair, slowly digesting the information. Hiccup…no, Alexander McKrillen, was being praised as an ace Assault Frame pilot. A soldier to rival all his peers. Something stirred in his chest, pride he hoped. Maybe sheer amazement mixed with a little sorrow at not being able to have been home to see this miraculous transformation.

"I…I have to talk to him."

"Ye won't find 'im," Gobber spoke up before Stoic had even reached the door. The general looked back cautiously.

"Why? Where is he?"

"Not around here I can tell ye that much," Gobber sighed. "'E tends to wander off most afternoons. Don' really blame 'im. I think 'e just wants ta get away from it all." he chuckled again. "I think the life of a celebrity is a bit rough for 'im. 'E can barely get away from the Arena before being swarmed by his new fans."

Gregorio ran a hand through his hair, a bewildered smile crossing his bearded face. "Alex has fans? Never thought I'd see the day. But I have to talk to him-"

"Just relax," the General felt a metal hand on his shoulder as Gobber smiled encouragingly. "'E'll be back before ya know it. Just wait for him back home Gregorio. It's not like e's gonna leave the country!"

* * *

_TIME: 1552 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)_

_LOCATION: FRANCE, PARIS AIRSPACE_

I was flying. Not as fast as the first time and not nearly as high, but I was up in the air and loving every minute of it.

The Night Fury in its' Dragonoid mode hummed contentedly around me, as though the mech itself was happy to be back in the skies. In the co-pilot's seat behind me, Ruusaan was also in high spirits. She was humming a tune to herself as she ran diagnostics and watched the radar for signs of Dragonoids in the area.

We were both fairly apprehensive about running into other mech's while I made the final tests. Escaping the British Isles without alerting the Military Police had been easy enough. Even if we'd been caught we could have just fled and the outposts would have waved us off as a scouting party. It would be harder to explain why you were trying to run away when the people you were fleeing from came from the same race as those that built the Dragonoid you were flying of course. The first sign of trouble and I kicked in the afterburners, sending the Night Fury into the upper atmosphere where Nadders (the most likely mech we'd encounter) wouldn't be able to reach us.

I flexed my hands inside my 'borrowed' pilot suit uneasily, resisting the urge to tug at my helmet. France spread out in all directions below us as we followed the River Seine into the country's former capital.

When you were born and raised in The Dome, you tended to forget exactly how much devastation this war had brought to the world. The once bustling metropolis below us was now an abandoned city of the dead. Massive craters pocketed the landscape, buildings that had survived their initial blast having long since fallen over their edges into the basins. Some had filled up with rainwater over the years, the few that had hit near the river now forming strange little harbours that looked like someone had taken great bites out of the land. As with the village near The Dome, most of the city had aged and decayed with no one to maintain it. Unlike the village, however, nature hadn't reclaimed the city. Parkland was overgrown to be sure, but that was it. The landscape below was just a desolate wasteland of broken mortar, brick and glass.

Which made it an ideal place to put the Night Fury through its paces with theoretically no one to bother us.

"You alright back there?" I glanced behind me, giving a halfway thumbs up. Ruusaan smiled giving me a full one in return.

"Ni tsikala."

_I'm ready._

"Alright then," I settled back into my own chair, one hand held up to help convey my words. "We're going to take it nice and slow. We're in no rush. Let's start with some turns shall we?"

Ca'furor banked effortlessly into wide circles at my command, the ruins of Paris quickly taking up my left-hand screen as we soared over skyscrapers and broken houses.

"So fah so gud?" Ruusaan asked.

"So far so good," I agreed. The Night Fury was holding up well for all the tinkering it had had to endure. "Alright, we know she can go in a circle without complaining, let's see what she can do in a straight line."

Paris below became a blur as the Dragonoid shot across the sky in a burst of speed. Ruusaan whooped in delight behind me as I pulled reduced speed over the city's outskirts. She was just happy to be out of the crater I realised. After spending two months with only me for company in the English countryside, any change of scenery would be no doubt have been nice.

"If she holds up this well for our trip, I don't think we'll have much to worry about." I smiled confidently behind me. "Alright, lets circle round and practice a few more manoeuvres, then…whoa!"

A bright shaft of light screamed the Night Fury, missing our Dragonoid by inches as it split the sky. I could feel the heat as the energy dissipated. If that had been any closer…

"What was that!?" I shouted over the alarm, struggling to stabilise the mech. "It just came out of nowhere."

"Hallex! Aru'ela!"

"Hostiles?" I glanced behind me, Ruusaan busy studying the radar. "From where? We're nowhere near The Dome and even if we were there's no way we'd be in a Viking's weapon range…unless…" realisation dawned, "unless we're not dealing with human hostiles. But if that was a Dragonoid…" I turned back to the forward camera, "what was it doing so far from Washington Crater? Where did it come from?"

"Ka'gaht aay'han."

From her chair, Ruusaan pivoted a secondary camera to the right, a smaller screen before me showing a magnified view. On the ground, I could see a fairground or amusement park of some kind. I could pick out several large buildings poking out amidst a small overgrown forest, most noticeably a large castle that looked like he had been taken straight out of a fairytale. That wasn't important though. What was important was the Dragonoid that was taking off from the tops of its spires.

My first thought was a Nightmare. It had the same general shape and wingspan. Then I noticed how…broken the armour looked. It was scarred and jagged, as though it had been repaired with the plating of several other mechs several times over. I could also pick out several additions that looked severely out of place. Someone had tricked this Dragonoid out and not cared for looks. I could see powerful thrusters for a mech twice the Nightmare's size. I could see a concussion wave cannon off a Thunder-drum slung underneath; a very old kind of Dragonoid from a time when we just nicknamed our enemy's mechs rather than try to pronounce their actual titles. The wings had also been salvaged from a Timber-jack, another older variant that had had the ability to tear through even The Dome's armour with the incredibly sharp blades along its wings. Even more bizarrely, I could make out at least one smoothbore cannon from a Viking Assault Frame mounted between the energy cannons. Two other Dragonoids were also in the air, both models long since out of use by the aliens themselves. One was a full Thunder-drum; a short stout machine no longer than five metres; little more than a cockpit, concussion wave cannon and a large pair of VTOL rotors attached to its sides. The other mech had once been a Scrill; the Nightmare's predecessor. Old files had shown that it was slower than the machine that replaced it, but this 'upgraded' model was screaming across the battlefield faster than any other machine I'd ever seen, save for the Night Fury of course.

Behind me, I heard Ruusaan growl as she watched the battle on her own screens. She knew as well as I did that these machines hadn't come from Washington Crater. I'd heard the stories of course…mostly from Gobber…of ageing Dragonoid mechs that attacked humans and aliens alike. The A.I. within had lost its master and had managed to survive the battle that had ejected or killed its pilot. Somehow, they managed to repair and enhance with the armour and weapons of their enemies. But with no orders to follow, they were no better than beasts. With no one to control them, they would attack anything, kill anything and leave destruction in their wake.

"Ruusaan. You know who these guys are right?"

My companion nodded, her words laced with barely contained rage, "Te Echoy'la."

"The Lost eh?" I smirked as I gunned the accelerator. "We have a name for them too: Boneknappers."

I steeled myself quietly as I pushed the Night Fury forward, my hands flexing around the control sticks. I was about to enter a battle in a flying mech whose weapons I'd never thought I'd even need to use. I was afraid, no doubts there, but there was also that niggling feeling at the back of my mind. What if I froze up again? I doubted these A.I. would be as forgiving if I hesitated. There was nowhere to run. All three Dragonoids were swooping towards us now, but could I really…

I froze as I felt Ruusaan's hand on my shoulder. I looked back to see her smiling down at me gently.

"Ganar mirshko, Hallex. Ni ganar besbe'trayce ke'gyce."

I blinked at her in confusion, then looked down at the translation matrix on my computer.

_Have courage. I have weapons control._

"I do the flying, you do the shooting huh?" She made it sound easy. Just put on a brave face and hope for the best. There was nowhere to run. Sometimes all you could do was stand and fight. "As good a plan as any I guess."

I gave Ruusaan a thankful smile, and turned my attention back to the battle, lining the Scrill up in my sights as it arced through the air.

This was it, do or die time. As I heard the targeting computer ping in confirmed lock-on, I found myself looking away when Ruusaan pulled the trigger.

The Night Fury shuddered from kickback as a pair of bright blue bursts of energy erupted from the Dragonoid's back-mounted plasma energy cannons. The Scrill never stood a chance. As its comrades streaked clear, the energy blasts ripped through its armour as though it had been made of tin foil. As I turned back to the screen, I watched with a mixture of horror and amazement as the mech quickly became a flailing twisting ball of burning metal. It sailed through the air in a wide arc overhead, crashing through the roof of some kind of giant observatory on the other side of the complex before erupting into a fantastic explosion of burning white light.

I'd done it…I'd actually shot down a Dragonoid.

…

Sort of.

The Thunder-Drum pulled out of its saving dive as its comrade exploded, turning its massive cannon towards us as the Nightmare keeping back as though to observe.

"Not good!"

Concussion waves are invisible, but the sheer force of a direct blast was enough to crack the armour of Assault Frames with a single hit. Even as I rolled out of the way I could feel the trailing ends of the attack shudder through the Night Fury as the blast swept past at the speed of sound. Instinct told me to return fire. Ruusaan seemed to read my mind. She pulled the secondary fire trigger, a spray of bullets belching from the Vulcan cannons peppering the enemy Dragonoid's mismatched armour before it pulled up violently and took off into the clouds.

"Damn," I cursed as the mech fell off radar, "Those Thunder-Drum's are faster than they look!"

"Laam ogir!"

"Yeah I know, I'm on it!"

The clouds parted for another wall of sound as I pushed the Night Fury forwards into a series of evasive manoeuvres. I caught sight of new craters erupting into existence behind us as the missed attacks slammed into the ground in the rear cameras, another assault shimmering through the air as it grazed our Dragonoid's wings.

"This isn't good." I bit my lip in irritation. "He's right in our weak spot." It made sense. I was fighting Dragonoids with Dragonoids. They would have to be royally stupid not to exploit the weaknesses of variants in their own machines, and the Boneknappers' A.I.s obviously hadn't survived this long by being stupid. "What do we do? We're dead if that thing keeps attacking us from above.

"Diende mhi am."

"We what?" I glanced behind me in confusion, watching as Ruusaan's fingers blurred across a console she'd pulled down from the ceiling. "What are you doing? Ruusaan this is no time to…"

I froze as suddenly my chair was bathed in bright blue lights from all sides, my hands flying to my head as I felt pain spasm down from my brain throughout my entire body. It was as though someone was lowering me slowly head first into a pool of ice-cold water. In a matter of moments, it felt like my own blood had turned to ice. As the pain reached its peak I watched through half-closed eyes the Dragonoid's language suddenly flared across all screens, the strange triangular letters quickly shifting and morphing into English.

"Neural…Linkage?"

* * *

On the outside, the Night Fury was changing too.

Before the Thunder-Drum Intelligence's cameras, it watched as thrusters extended into legs, fingers uncurled and arms moved away from the main body as shoulder blades extended. The chest section rotated a hundred and eighty degrees so it was now facing upward, the wings folded back into an angel formation as the main cannons arced over to click into place between them. Finally, as the hands pulled the mech's shield and rifle from their moorings, its and the pointed plate sunk between the shoulder blades, one last transformation rotated into view; a long thin pointed humanoid head, vents on its 'cheeks' melding into the vulcan cannons on either side, parallel with its thin dark green visor.

The A.I. barely had time to react to the sudden transformation before a bolt of green energy from the Night Fury's rifle sliced through his Dragonoid's armour like a knife through butter.

_"Buruk. Buruk. Bur-"_

The intelligence of the Nightmare heard its comrade's cry and watched the Thunderdrum explode in a fiery ball of heat and debris, his attacker not even stopping as he turned to face the remaining Boneknapper head on.

The A.I. managed to eject its Dragonoid's concussion wave cannon before another energy blast reduced it to shrapnel, the sudden weight lost from its mech's underside giving it the speed it needed to avoid the rest of the barrage. The intelligence might have grinned if it had a mouth as it barrel rolled its machines effortlessly through the Night Fury's attacks. Whoever was piloting the Night Fury, it was clear they had little if any real battle experience. He or she had gotten lucky with their attacks up until now. It banked the Dragonoid high into the sky, the sunlight glinting off the blades of the Timber-jack wings as it fell into a steep dive, its target clear…

Until the Night Fury attached its rifle to its leg with a magnetic clank.

With nowhere to go but down, the Nightmare's Intelligence could only watch in confusion as the humanoid mech before it pulled one of the cruciform longswords from its sheath along the back energy cannons and shot towards him with a burst of speed. It had no time to even react as the swords missed one of the Timber-jack wings' blades completely, severing the appendage off at the joints as the onyx mech screamed over the Nightmare in a single rolling motion.

Alarms screamed in the empty cockpit as the A.I. struggled to regain control of its flailing machine, the Nightmare's enlarged thrusters now the only things keeping the Dragonoid in the air.

But the Night Fury wasn't done. Crossing its arms protectively over its chest so its shield protected the cockpit, the back-mounted cannons arcing over to lock into a forward firing position on each shoulder, its wings spread wide.

The last thing the Nightmare's A.I. saw was the humanoid mech throwing its arms wide before a pair of pillars of bright blue light erupted from the powerful cannons, the sheer force of impact with its own machine sending his Dragonoid careening into the castle before it power source enveloped everything in an explosion of burning white.

* * *

I slumped back in my chair, my eyes wide as I watched the castle become engulfed by the Boneknapper's destruction. Light seemed to shine from every window before the building was consumed, the towers disintegrating from the shockwaves of the explosion as debris was sent scattering in all directions. By the time the light faded, all that was left was a crater and the smouldering foundations. Whatever that A.I. had been putting in its' engines, it sure sent it off with a bang.

I felt…different. As though something was energising every nerve of my body. Now in its humanoid form, it felt like the Night Fury was responding to my thoughts, as though it had become another part of me. I needed to look left, and the head turned left. I wanted a melee weapon and it drew one of the swords and fought with them well too.

"This is…incredible," I breathed. "I knew the Dragonoids were advanced, but this…" I looked back at Ruusaan. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Then I saw her face, sombre look with sad regretful eyes. "Ni vaabir'naas copaanir aht kadala gar."

I didn't get a chance to read the translation.

Pain suddenly seared through my entire body, as though someone had set my nerves ablaze with white-hot flame. I screamed as I clutched at my head, trying to claw at the pain inside as the Night Fury did the same. I could feel the Dragonoid tumble through the sky as darkness consumed my vision, alarms blaring and mixing with my screams as Ruusaan tried to regain control.

* * *

The world was dark and silent, save for the crackling of a fire somewhere nearby and the chirping of crickets.

My body felt like it had been encased in lead. Everything ached from the tiniest movement, not that it was easy for my heavy limbs to move around much, not with something warm and soft wrapped around my sluggish form.

_'Huh. I'm alive. Always a plus.'_

Groggily I forced my eyes open, grateful for the orange hues of sunset and the soft glow of firelight than the blinding afternoon sun I was expecting. Actually, I wasn't expecting to be outside at all, the last memories of the Night Fury and those last moments of pain flashing through my mind. I could see the shadowed form of the Dragonoid, returned to its dragon form, across from the fire, lit from behind by the dying embers of the fantasy castle off in the distance. I tried to sit up, only for the warm, soft thing to tighten around me in the form of long black-clad arms. I looked up at their owner with a tired smile, my head resting on her shoulder.

"You know, if we're going to make a habit of this, people might start talking."

Ruusaan didn't reply. She didn't even smile or make eye contact. She just held me tight, just as she had done after my impromptu first flight with the Night Fury, her eyes distant as she stared into the fire's flames.

"Ni vaabir'naas copaanir aht kadala gar."

Now that we weren't in the middle of combat, I had a chance to process her words. I recognised a few of them, specifically kadala; hurt.

"You didn't want to hurt me? Gar…kadala ni?" I guessed, freeing one hand to sign with. Ruusaan nodded, not even a twitch of a smile at the corners of her lips that usually came with my botched attempts to speak her language. I frowned uncomfortably, before gently prising her arms off me. She resisted at first but relented quickly. She refused to look at me as I sat up, choosing instead to draw her knees up to her chest, her arms coming round her legs tightly like a child fending off the cold.

"Ni ceta, Hallex." her voice was small and soft, slightly muffled from talking into her arms. "Ni aabir'naas mirdir bal gar kadala."

I didn't need a translation matrix to understand she was trying to apologise. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, half-consciously realising Ruusaan had removed my helmet while I'd been knocked out. I remembered the feeling of the device the translation matrix had called Neural Linkage as it had powered up, and the pain that had pulsed through my body five minutes later. But in those five minutes, I'd gained control of the Night Fury's humanoid form. It had been as though the Dragonoid had become an extension of my own body, and without that sudden edge, I had no doubt the Boneknappers would have ripped the Night Fury to shreds. I turned my gaze to the fire.

"You don't have to apologise. We were in a tight spot, and you know more about Ca'furor than I do, and…" I glanced over at her, her still blank look telling me my friend hadn't understood a word I'd said. I smiled slightly. It's easy to forget you don't speak the same language when you have a translation matrix between you. I wracked my brains for the right words to make her understand. After a few moments of awkward silence, I turned to face my friend fully, hoping my memory wasn't going to make a fool of me. "Nayc linibar par ceta. "Ni sanyc gar."

No need for sorry. I trust you. At least that's what I was trying to say.

For a moment, Ruusaan didn't say anything. She just stared at me with wide eyes over her folded arms.

"Did I say something wrong?" I panicked at the awkward silence. "I'm sorry! If it was something rude I didn't mean it! I mean-amph!"

All brain function seemed to stop as Ruusaan bowled me over in a flurry of movement, crushing me against her in a tight hug as she rested her head against my shoulder.

"R-Ruusaan?" I could feel my elbows digging into the ground as I tried to hold the two of us up. "W-w-what are you-"

"Ne'johaa." I knew I'd been told to shut up, but my friend's voice was soft and quiet. "Ni vaabir'naas copaanir gar aht haa'taylir ni pir'ekulor."

I tensed as I caught sight of tears trailing down her face out of the corner of my eye, but Ruusaan only hugged me tighter when I tried to move away, and I could feel her smile against my neck. Did that mean she was happy? Did I get it right?

I sighed quietly, turning my gaze to the first stars as they began to shine in the darkening sky as a heavy confused feeling settled in my chest.

My gut was conflicting with my brain…again. Eighteen years of people telling me Dragonoids were bloodthirsty killers was warring with an exact opposite example that currently had her arms around my neck. My brain kept insisting that every family had its black sheep. One example of the species didn't represent all aspects of the species as a whole after all. But, my gut countered, if one Dragonoid was against the norm, whose to say there weren't others? Even after the death of Arthur Hofferson, there were still people like him who just wanted to end with as little bloodshed as possible. Who was to say if there weren't like-minded Dragonoids in Washington Crater? And maybe…

I stopped the train of thought abruptly as I realised I was getting in over my head. If I couldn't even convince my own father that I wasn't worth the AF training process, what chance did I have trying to convince Dragonoids to pursue a path of peace?

Not that it mattered anyway. Soon Ruusaan would be back with her kind, I would be back with mine, the Night Fury would be left to rust at the bottom of the Atlantic and that would be the end of it.

And besides, right now I had a more pressing matter on my mind.

"Ruusaan…my arms are falling asleep here."

* * *

_TIME: 2327 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, WEST SECTOR FIVE, MCKRILLEN RESIDENCE_

My eyes were itching with tiredness as I practically fell through the front door, as though my body had decided spending several hours comatose didn't count as sleep. The Dome itself was almost silent, most people getting ready for tomorrow's New Year celebrations, and that suited me just fine. These days, the fewer people who saw me, the better in my humble opinion. And the day of final examinations, when Astrid would take all this fame off my shoulders, was two weeks too far off.

I thumbed through the Night Fury's files on my tablet as I shut the door, the screen's pale glow the only light in the darkened hallway as I trudged towards the stairs and bed. The Dragonoid had been no worse for wear after the battle and the Neural Linkage (or N-Link as I'd shortened it to on my notes) incident. Should everything go smoothly, all that was left to do was wait for the next Dragonoid raid and Ruusaan would be well on her way home. If only it they hadn't been so quiet-

"You're home late."

"Gah!"

I must have jumped a foot in the air as my father's massive form seemed to materialise out of the shadows of the living room door. He seemed tired and haggard, his features lit by the lampposts outside the living room window, but he watched me calmly, his face unnervingly unreadable.

"Dad! Hi! You're back!" I grinned a bit too forcefully as I tried to hide the tablet behind my back, my free hand fumbling for the hallway light, "And you're home!…in the dark."

"I was waiting for you," Stoic winced slightly as the overhead light flickered on, but generally his expression didn't change. His voice was quiet and calm, something that naturally filled me with dread. "You've been keeping secrets from me, Alex. Gobber told me everything."

"G-Gobber told you…" my throat was quickly drying out, my blood running cold as I subconsciously inched back towards the door. "Look if he's said anything about a house party that was his idea…and it was his house-"

"Did you honestly believe you could hide it from me forever?" the general advanced on me dangerously, quickening my own back-pedalling. "You should know this by now Alex. There is no secret, not in this Dome, not on this  _island_ , that I do not quickly get wind of."

"Ah…y-yeah I'm pretty sure you've mentioned that befo-"

"So," my back hit the door with an audible thud as Stoic leaned down ominously, "I think it's time you and I had a little chat…about Dragonoids."

Across the other side of The Dome, I'd swear I heard someone drop a pin in the deathly silence. My father stared down expectantly, no doubt fully aware of the terror I was feeling right now. Nightmares of assault frames swarming the village crater filled my mind, of soldiers and guns surrounding the Night Fury, of Ruusaan in their sights, seconds away from…

And then, the images vanished as my father began to laugh. He laughed loud, picking me up in a bone-crushing bear hug that lifted me off my feet, my tablet falling to the floor with a clatter.

He…he wasn't mad.  _Why_ wasn't he mad? That thought alone made the dread feelings return.

"Ah my boy! I  _hoped_  this day would come!" Stoic grinned from ear to ear as he practically carried me into the living room. "You've no idea how long I've been waiting for this, son. Well, actually you probably do…"

My dad's ramblings quickly muted as he set me down, my legs giving way and letting my body fall into the well-worn armchair behind me, my tired brain working in overdrive. There's no way Gregorio McKrillen would be this ecstatic to find his only son had been trying to help a Dragoind back to Washington Crater, let alone the fact I'd been keeping an almost fully functional Dragonoid mech barely six klicks from The Dome's parameter. The fact Gobber had apparently told him about Ruusaan also didn't sit right with me. There was no way I could see that would stop Gobber from trying to hunt the Night Fury down himself if he'd had even a suspicion that it was close by, short of tying him to a raft and pushing him out to sea. That meant Stoic  _had_  to betalking about something else. Something Dragonoid-related…

…

If it hadn't looked suspicious, I might have tried to bury my face in my hands at my own stupidity.

"You're talking about AF Training."

"Of course I am!" My father gave me a strange look but couldn't keep the grin off his face. "What else would I be talking about? All those years, Alex! I'll admit, I almost gave up on you, I don't deny it, but my God I'm glad I weathered it out for you! All this time you were holding back on me, I can't believe it!"

I smiled faintly as the giant of a man before me was practically dancing like a kid at Christmas and singing my praises. I suppose a part of me was happy. I mean this is what I wanted, right? My dad was…proud of me. Proud of what I'd accomplished, what I'd done. This one moment should have meant more to me than all the fame and attention I'd had this past month combined.

So why did it feel more like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach?

Maybe it was because I was essentially cheating. No one else who entered into the arena knew the key phrases for the Dragonoids' A.I. after all, so how could I accept my dad's newfound adoration for essentially stopping the enemy in its tracks and giving them a fresh coat of red paint?

But it was more than that, I realised. It was more about Ruusaan. When I was around here, it felt like everything I knew about her race was wrong. Worse, because I now knew what was piloting those mechs into battle, I could no longer see Dragonoids as soulless metal killing machines. It made me sick to my stomach to think that pretty soon I would be expected to go against people like Ruusaan. Sure, many of them probably wanted to see humans dead for whatever reason, but maybe there were others like Ruusaan; good people who were only doing their jobs…or duty.

My own father was praising me because he thought I could kill Dragonoids, and I realised I didn't want that kind of pride from him. I just wanted him to be proud of me for being…me.

"Dad," I started quietly, to try and bring him down gently. "It's kinda late, and I'll be fit for nothing for the New Year if I don't get some sleep so…do you mind if we pick this up in the morning?"

It was as though someone had pressed pause on a video recording. It might have been funny watching all my father's energy come to an abrupt halt like that. It  _might_  have been, if the reason he was so ecstatic wasn't making me feel sick to my stomach.

Stoic gave me an embarrassed smile, one hand rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

"Sorry, guess it is a bit late to be energetic right?" He laughed uneasily, and I tried to half-heartedly do the same for his sake. "But no this has been a good…talk?"

He seemed unsure, and I didn't blame him. When most conversations between us usually ended in shouting matches, I'll admit it felt a little strange to end on such a quiet note.

"Yeah, good talk Dad," I wasn't sure if I should hug him or not as I went past him into the hallway to collect my tablet, so I settled for a pat on the arm instead, "and we can talk more in the morning okay?"

"Yes, you're right. Good talk, good talk." Stoic nodded to himself as he awkwardly followed me into the hallway. "I will say this though before you go," I felt a pair of heavy hands fall on my shoulders as I stood up. "You've done good, son. No, you've done great."

I smiled as best I could, even though I didn't want to. What else could I do? It was either that or tell him I'd spent the best part of a month in the company of one of our enemy, and that everything that had made him so proud of me was a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Ni tsikala."  
> (I'm ready)
> 
> "Hallex! Aru'ela!"  
> (Alex! Hostiles!)
> 
> "Ka'gaht aay'han."  
> (South-east.)
> 
> "Te Echoy'la."  
> (The Lost)
> 
> "Ganar mirshko, Hallex. Ni ganar besbe'trayce ke'gyce."  
> (Have courage, Alex. I have weapon control.)
> 
> "Laam ogir!"  
> (Up there!)
> 
> "Diende mhi am."  
> (Then we change.)
> 
> "Buruk. Buruk. Bur-"  
> (Danger. Danger. Dan-)
> 
> "Ni vaabir'naas copaanir aht kadala gar."  
> (I didn't want to hurt you.)
> 
> "Ni ceta Hallex. Ni aabir'naas mirdir bal gar kadala."  
> (I'm sorry Alex. I didn't think and you were hurt.)
> 
> "Nayc linibar par ceta. "Ni sanyc gar."  
> (No need for sorry. I trust you.)
> 
> "Ne'johaa. Ni vaabir'naas copaanir gar aht haa'taylir ni pir'ekulor."  
> (Shut up. I don't want you to see me cry.)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> The battle over Disneyland was the first real divergence from the plot of the movie that didn't have any relation to movie events (Alex's flight into the upper atmosphere can be related to the 'New Tail' sequence of the movie, last chapter had some basis on the montage sequence, etc.) and was included because I realised that Alex and Ruusaan needed to be shown piloting and fighting with the Night Fury before the final battle to make it believable. In HttyD it's not as big an issue, because Toothless is a living being. he knows his strengths and weaknesses and how to fire plasma blast, and Hiccup is largely just there to keep him up in the air. As such, his battle was written in to not only give Alex a taste of actual battle experience, but also to showcase the Night Fury's abilities to the reader.
> 
> Originally, the Boneknappers were supposed to be a Dragonoid patrol, but went through changes when I realised Ruusaan would probably have conflicting issues about going up against her own people, while Alex was having conflicting issues about fighting in general. The Boneknappers were originally a pirate gang, either of rogue Dragonoid species or Humans of a Fallout-esque Raider gang, but this didn't set well with the 'not-so'different' angle I was trying to portray. I changed them to being completely rogue A.I. to make them nothing more than targets neither Alex nor Ruusaan would have problems shooting down.
> 
> Neural Linkage, more commonly known as the N-Link, was a device I developed for an original novel series as a way of explaining how a Humanoid giant robot coupld be operated. I'm obviously not the first person to come up with the concept (the five minute timer is a shout out to Neon Genesis Evangelion), but I've always struggled to describe how such mecha moves in relation to how a pilot operates it (usually with pedals and control sticks) so Dragonoid seemed as good a place as any to see how prospective audiences would accept it.
> 
> If you've read either of my previous mecha-infusion fics, AVATAR: Last of the Black Core or AVATAR: Hunt for the Courier (and I'm still really sorry to you for never being able to finish that series), you might remember that I used to compile an OST at the beginning of the fics of music from various anime that either helped me during the writing process or I felt suited the scenes now that they had giant robots in them. I didn't do this with Dragonoid because HttyD's soundtrack fits just as well with Dragonoids as it did with Dragons, but at this juncture, when things original scenes will start to become more frequent, I'd thought I'd share the music pieces that helped inspire the writing where applicable. According to my notes, the first 1:40 of Track thirteen of Kill La Kill's OST, 'KiLL LA KiLL', was the primary musical inspiration for the initial Boneknapper attack, while 'Coupling Mode', Track four of disc two of the Gundam SEED ripoff Buddy Complex's OST. Considering these are anime from 2013 and 2014, it's possible these were tracks I used during the rewriting process. Either that, or I spent a lot longer on this chapter than I thought I did (and I really don't want to think that I potentially spent four years writing two chapters). 'Test Drive' played its' part in the events prior to the battle of course until about the 1:20 mark, although I think 'The Cove' was playing more in my head more than 'Not so Fireproof' for Alex and Ruusaan's heart to heart.
> 
> Alright, that's all for today. Thank you for reading all you have so far, and I wish you all the very best for the new year!


	9. Section 08: The Changing of Minds

**SECTION 08**

**THE CHANGING OF MINDS**

_DATE: JANUARY 3, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1518 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY ASSAULT FRAME TRAINING ARENA_

A battlefield stretched out before Astrid, or at least what someone had thought a battlefield should look like. The ground had been pocketed with large craters and strewn with the disabled carcasses of Assault Frames and slabs of steel mimicking fallen buildings.

These series of battles would be the final examination for most of the pilots in AF training; two trainees and their Vikings against a Dragonoid selected at random, barring the Nightmare. It had been a chance for trainees to prove themselves, and show their superiors that they could fight in more than just an open arena or structured maze. It also gave them a last fleeting chance to gain the points needed to pull them up the rankings. Each battle pair was grouped together by their place in the rankings; first was paired with second, third with forth and so on, with the bottom pair being on first so, in Astrid's humble opinion, they wouldn't be close to wetting themselves by the end of the day. As such, it came as no surprise to her at least that her fight was the last battle, and the one everyone had come to see. She knew the observation galleries were full to bursting, the shutters that ran the length of the ceiling had been lowered to reveal everyone from her own squad mates to the Military Police brass gazing down at the 'war-torn' arena below behind thick armoured glass.

Unfortunately for her though, they weren't here to see her.

Hiccup's mech stood at her Viking's back, something she would never have anticipated even being a possibility when she had been told Nu squad had been selected for AF Training. From the bottom of the barrel, he'd crawled up the rankings. Past Waif and Fishlegs, past all the members of Squads Alpha, Lambda, Nu, Rho and Upsilon to reach the number two spot, directly behind her at the top of the heap. For all his talk about wanting to stay out of the limelight, only a few precious performance points separated the two of them. One wrong move from her, or one right move from him, and all her effort into pulling her name out of the mud by becoming the greatest ace of her generation would be wasted. Even so, she knew no matter what happened, it would be a bitter victory. Everyone here was here for Hiccup. Everyone expected him to come out of this fight with the number one ranking in hand. Even her own mother, who had actually been against Astrid going through with AF Training, had high hopes that Hiccup would take the top spot. But to Astrid, a victory would be a victory. That was all that mattered to her now.

Their Dragonoid that had been randomly selected was the workhorse of the enemy. She'd caught sight of the Gronckle-class skulking around the opposite end of the Arena. She could hear the thrum of its rapidly beating wings and caught the occasional glimpse of its' bright red camera amongst the wreckage.

It was getting closer.

_"So are we going to work together to take this guy down or what?"_

Astrid scowled as Hiccup's uncertain voice crackled over her helmet's headset. It was true some of the trainees would sometimes team up rather than risk losing performance points when going up against the more difficult Dragonoids such as the Zippleback, but this was just a Gronckle, your average grunt mech. She didn't need help to defeat it. Even if she did, Hiccup wasn't high on her list of allies.

"I thought you said you wanted you wanted to stay out of the limelight," she replied dryly.

_"I also don't want to get ahead of you. If we work together-"_

"You'll just get in my way," Astrid swore she heard his teeth click shut as she snapped at him. "So stay out of this. I'm winning this thing."

_"But if we work together-"_

"You'll  _get_  in my-"

_"Target incoming! Three o'clock!"_

Concrete exploded at the feet of her Viking as Astrid pulled her mech clear, Hiccup's machine behind her diving for cover as the Gronckle swooped overhead, its camera swinging its gaze across the battlefield until it found a target.

And with Hiccup nowhere in sight, the Dragonoid found its' target in her.

This was what she wanted; a straight up one on one fight, with no one to get between her and her victory.

"You're mine, tin can." Astrid grinned as she pushed her Viking forward. "This time…This time for sure!"

Energy blasts rained from the Gronckle's turrets as Astrid charged, weaving her Viking between the slabs of debris and fallen assault frames to get closer to her target. She couldn't keep the grin off her face as her recoilless rifle belched practice shells across the arena, keeping the Dragonoid from fleeing too far in any direction.

"You shouldn't have underestimated me!" Astrid raised her mech's smoothbore cannon towards the Gronckle's head. All she needed was one perfect shot, and the win was hers-

Her enemy's plasma mortar put an end to such dreams.

Alarms screamed in her ears as a single mortar shot exploded before her Viking's cameras, reducing the smoothbore to slag as the shockwave caused her mech to stagger back.

"No! NO!" Astrid raised the rifle, firing blindly at whatever shapes she could see through the static that consumed her screens. "I can't lose! Not here! NOT TO HIM!"

She could hear the thrum of the Gronckle's wings ringing in her ears as though it was bouncing off the arena's walls and amplifying with every wing beat. She was half blind, half deaf and her ammunition was rapidly depleting in her panicked frenzy.

"Where are you?" alarms screamed at her as she spun the Viking round, its joints pushed to their limits as she tried to lock onto a target she could barely see. "WHERE ARE YOU!?"  
_"Mav gar sushir?"_

In an instant, it was all over. As her ammo counter hit zero and the strange alien voice filled her speakers, Astrid lurched her Viking around to come face to face with the Gronckle's plasma mortar.

The world around her suddenly went silent. The alarms, the beat of the Dragonoid's wings, even the sound of her own heartbeat was deafened as she stared into the face of death.

This wasn't supposed to happen. There was supposed to be contingents in place to stop Dragonoids from getting too close during training matches…

_"Mav gar sushir?"_

And then there was the voice; a low metallic monotone that reverberated in her chest, speaking words of a language she didn't understand. The language of the enemy.

_"Mav gar sushir?"_

"I…I don't understand you!" She bared her teeth at the static-ridden image, her anger quickly overcoming her fear. "And even if I did, you don't have anything to say that I want to hear."

_"Mav gar sushir?"_

"Shut up! Just shut up right now!"

_"Mav gar sushir?"_

"SHUT UP!" rage consumed her as threw the remains of her Viking forward. "I WILL DESTROY YOU! I WILL DESTROY  _ALL_ OF YOU!"

_"Buruk ulur."_

The Plasma mortar was charged before she could take a second step, the cockpit bathed in purple light through the screens' static. Her rage evaporated as the fear returned, the whine of the weapon's power drowning out all other sounds in her ears…

_"Astrid!"_

The light disappeared as the sound of metal on metal screeched in Astrid's ears, the plasma mortar disappearing from her view the instant before she heard the heavy thud of the Dragonoid's weapon firing. Burning plasma missed her Viking by inches as it screamed past, slamming into the wrecked Assault Frame behind her before she even had time to realise how close to death she had come.

What came next was all a blur to her. Maybe the downed Viking hadn't been as safe for mock battles as it could have been. Maybe there had still been hydrogen fuel left in the engine. All Astrid knew was the moment the plasma crashed into the wreckage of the mech, the Viking exploded in a brilliant blue fireball that swept across the arena. The explosion so nearby caused the shockwaves to blow Astrid's Viking clear off its feet, its pilot screaming in terror as she was tossed about inside the cockpit like a rag doll. She felt pain spasm through he body as her mech crashed to the ground, alarms shrieking in her ears as it rolled over several times before coming to a halt with a sickening crunch against a nearby barricade.

The lights of the cockpit suddenly dimmed, maybe from a loss of power or maybe simply because of an oncoming concussion. Astrid could feel consciousness slipping away as she weakly tried to free herself from the safety harness but to no avail. As she let the darkness consume her, the last thing she heard was the heavy thump of a smoothbore cannon, and a siren announcing the battle to be over.

* * *

"…-strid! Astrid can yo-…Ast-…Astrid!"

A voice broke through the darkness, warm hands on Astrid's shoulders contrasting sharply with the strange cold feeling that was seeping through the back of her pilot armour. The voice itself was dulled by a ringing in her ears, but it was loud enough for her to realise at least one thing.

She was still alive.

Astrid opened her eyes…and immediately regretted it, the blinding white lights on the Arena's ceiling causing spots to dance across her vision and pain to slice through her brain.

"Hey, stay with me now," Hiccup's voice came from somewhere above as his blurred face blotted out the lights. "The medics will be here in a minute. Are you okay?"

"Depends," her body protested as she forced herself to sit upright, shaking off Hiccup's hands in the process. She pushed the pain away as she forced Hiccup's face to sharpen. "How badly did you beat me?"

Hiccup didn't have to reply. As she looked up to the observation galleries, she knew the wail of sirens from oncoming ambulances and fire trucks would have been drowned out by the cheers of the roaring crowd. She could see General Stoic looking on proudly at his son, her squadmates jumping and hollering like wild animals and shouting the victor's name.

Astrid didn't need to read lips to know it wasn't her name they were calling.

She thought she would have felt angry or sick, rather than the hollow feeling that was currently settling in her stomach. It was that familiar drained feeling she'd felt before; the feeling of resignation. First place had been all that mattered to her. Nothing less than that would have given her the distance she wanted from her father and his actions.

But now, none of it mattered. She glanced over to where Hiccup had parked his own Assault Frame nearby. Parked being the least heroic way of describing the display before her. While her own Viking lay in a crumpled heap, layers of fire suppressing foam being sprayed onto whatever flames tried to push through the armoured plate, Hiccup's machine stood over the wrecked remains of the Gronckle, the Dragonoid's head crumpled in from the force of a point-blank shot. Red paint had splattered across the Assault Frame from the back blast of the close-range shot, staining the giant mech's armour like blood from a fresh kill. It was an image she knew would be plastered across the front page of The Dome's newspapers, and it sickened her to know her name wouldn't be associated with it. At best, she would be a footnote at the bottom of the article, overshadowed by her own subordinate. Because of him, no one would remember her as the best AF pilot of her generation. Because of him, Astrid knew the people of The Dome would always see her as Arthur Hofferson's daughter.

And to her own disgust, Hiccup wasn't even smug about his victory. He wasn't gloating or basking in the praise that would have made it so much easier for her to hate him. If anything, Astrid thought he looked sick and pale, trying his hardest to avert his eyes from the grisly display he had created.

It was almost mocking really, so Astrid thought, that the one who had taken her rightful victory was so disgusted by the sight of it.

* * *

_DATE: JANUARY 7, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1547 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, EAST SECTOR THREE, REFUGEE DISTRICT, COWELL'S EATERY & BAR_

In 139 A.D.E., around twenty years after The Dome had been completed, her citizens had woken up one fine day to discover tales of their home had spread across the world. The remains of humanity had heard of their success at repelling the Dragonoids, and now they wanted in. The Dome Council had been hard pressed to turn away their fellow man with so few humans left in the world, and thus the Refugee District had been created.

Beginning as a tent town wedged into a corner of The Dome near the Harbour (Back then having simply been one of the main gates into the interior before the creation of the mobile fortresses), it had grown into buildings of stone and glass that spanned most of East Sector and housed almost a third of The Dome's population. While most of The Dome's buildings were fairly uniform in design, the Refugee District had essentially been built  _by_  refugees  _for_  refugees, resulting in a mishmash of different cultural designs from Asia to the Americas and everything in-between.

Cowell's was an establishment where several of these cultures clashed. Originally built to resemble an American 1950's Diner, it had gradually picked up influences from its various owners of the past century, from German to French, Indian to Japanese. Each had left their mark, including its current owner, who was currently trying to return it to its original feel without losing the quirks that came with its' history.

Astrid didn't know why her feet had decided to take her here after she'd been discharged by the Medical Devision. Maybe it was because it was so quiet, the plastic booths and stools at the bar practically empty after the lunch rush as the jukebox in the corner quietly played some centuries old song about lithium flowers and incredible math. In fact, aside from the owner, only one other customer was in the narrow establishment; seated at the bar, hunched over a large slice of apple pie.

She only had to take one look at his lanky frame and dark brown hair for her eyes to narrow in irritation.

"Are you following me?"

Hiccup looked up from his slice of pie with tired eyes. For someone who was the talk of The Dome, Astrid thought her subordinate ( _former_  subordinate she reluctantly reminded herself) looked as though he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were heavy-lidded and ringed with dark circles, his civilian clothes rumpled and haphazard and his hair mussed and sticking up at odd angles. He gazed at Astrid for a moment longer than she thought was necessary, before going back to his food.

"What? My life revolves around you now?" he grunted nonchalantly. "I like the pie here, alright? You should try some, best thing short of my mum's cooking." He glanced up at the owner. "No offence."

The blonde bartender shrugged with an easy smile, before turning an expectant gaze on Astrid. It took a few moments for her to make up her mind, but she slowly nodded her head as she approached the bar.

She didn't sit down until the owner had returned with another slice of pie. Even then, the only reason she sat down on the stool next to Hiccup's was because the bartender had placed it there.

"You look like death," she muttered as she dug in.

"And you're feeling better," Hiccup smirked in return. "I was starting to get worried."

"I don't want your pity, Hiccup," Astrid forced the hot anger into her voice at the thought. "It's not like I was comatose or anything anyway. You won, end of story." she sent a glare his way, "You want me to congratulate you?"

"Not really. I didn't want this kind of attention, remember?" Hiccup reached into his jacket pocket. "I was worried because I wanted to give this to you before I head out. The Hospital was a bit too exposed to the media for my liking."

Astrid watched with suspicious eyes as he pulled out a small sheet of paper, folded in half, and smoothed it out on the counter between them. The seal of the Military Police caught her eye almost immediately at the top of the page, but it was words that followed that made her drop her fork in surprise:

_From: Gregorio McKrillen, General-in-Chief of The Dome Military Police Force._

_To: …._

_We, reposing especial Trust and Confidence in your Loyalty, Courage, and good Conduct, do by these Presents Constitute and Appoint you to be an Officer of The Dome Military Police Force, holding the rank of 2_ _nd_ _Lieutenant from the day of…_

"This is an officer's commission." Astrid stared at Hiccup with wide eyes. "This is  _your_  officer's commission."

"Actually, I want it to be  _your_  officer's commission," Hiccup smiled slightly, clearly enjoying her surprise. "That's why I asked Dad to leave the name blank. I told you I didn't want this Astrid, and I'm not going to need it either. A commission is a big thing. It's a guaranteed career with the Military Police after we've completed compulsory service, you know that."

"I said-"

"I know, I know!" He rolled his eyes as she scowled darkly from being interrupted, "You don't want my pity, I get that. That's not why I'm doing this. If you don't take it, I'm going to give it to Fishlegs, or Waif or even Snotlout if I have too! I. Don't. Want. It." He turned away from her. "I'm not going to need it where I'm going."

"And where, pray tell, are you planning to go?" Astrid pushed the commission back to him angrily. "Even if you turn down this promotion for whatever insane reason you've cooked up, you still have to complete compulsory service as long as you live in The Do-"

The realisation hit her cold, like a punch to the gut. He didn't look her in the eye, preferring instead to take great interest in the last few mouthfuls of pie before him.

"Oh no. No no no. You  _can't_  be that stupid."

"I'm not being stupi-"

"The hell you aren't!" She grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to look at her. "Hiccup, you can't leave The Dome! You'd never survive out there by yourself."

He turned away from her. "I can handle it."

"You can barely handle yourself!" She felt a pang of satisfaction as he winced. "Hiccup, there's nothing but death and Dragonoids out there. Where are you going to go? The Isle is empty, there's nowhere for you to go! Nowhere safe anyway."

Hiccup laughed humourlessly. "I didn't know you cared Astrid," he waved at the bartender. "Bill please."

His words cut deep, a knot in her chest clenching hard.

"I hate you, Alex," she said softly. "For what you did. For what you  _tried_  to make me believe, but…I don't want to see you dead."

Hiccup smiled at her as he stood up and paid both bills, a strange sad smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"I would have thought you'd be happier about this Astrid," he replied quietly as he headed for the door. "This is what you wanted right? After today, you won't have to see me at all."

As Astrid watched him leave, she surprised even herself when she had no answer for him.

* * *

_DATE: JANUARY 8, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0803 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTHEAST OF DOME TERRITORY_

Sneaking out of The Dome had been easy. Dad had been working late almost every night since his return, not a surprise considering the loss of life that had resulted from the disaster the mission had become. As such, it wasn't hard to pack a small bag of essentials and get past The Dome parameter in the early hours without sounding any alarms. Neither was it particularly hard to 'borrow' a pistol and a couple of magazines worth of ammunition for it from Outpost 83RK's weapon stores and a motorcycle from its garage.

Leaving The Dome behind however had been harder than I thought. It wasn't as though I was moving house, after all. I was leaving everything I had ever known behind. I'd made sure to keep the flexi-steel shell that I had called home out of my sight for the journey out to where the Night Fury lay. I knew that if I looked back, I might start thinking this was all just a bad idea.

That said, what little I had pulled together to make a plan was shaky at best. I had no real destination in mind, just so long as it was as far from The Dome as I could get. I'd heard rumours from the Refugee District about other human settlements that disliked The Dome and how it tried to bring all humans together into one place. Many saw it as painting a big target for the Dragonoids to destroy, and with it most of humanity's remains.

My plan, such as it was, was to find one of these smaller settlements and integrate with them, maybe as an engineer or soldier if I was desperate enough.

But my first objective was to get Ruusaan back to Washington Crater. I wasn't about to let my own mistakes get in the way of the original plan, and I saw no reason to stop Ruusaan from going home just because I was imposing exile on myself. I was also still going to dump the Night Fury once I'd returned from America, but only after I'd located a settlement far from The Dome to quietly call my new home. Most probably wouldn't take kindly to having a Dragonoid around, and they might see the Fury as something that might draw the enemy in.

I sighed as I pulled the motorbike up onto the side of the road beside the field. There were so many things that could go wrong, and they were all running through my head as I rigged the bike's IFF to start transmitting in seventy-two hours. I forced my problems to the back of my mind as reached for the tarp covering the supplies I'd bundled into the trailer. Right now I was just had to focus on each issue as it came up, in this case getting everything loaded onto the Night Fury and getting Ruusaan back to Washington Crater without being seen.

The thought stayed with me until a pair of long black boot-clad feet slammed into my chest.

Stars blitzed across my vision as my lungs screamed for air, the kick sending me sailing through the rusted fence with an ugly screech and into the long grass beyond it. My vision blurred painfully as my brain tried to force my body to remember how to breathe, my limbs shaky as I tried to get back to my feet.

"…Ow…"

" _That_  was for stealing the supplies," a cold feminine voice from above me was cruelly indifferent to my pain. A swift follow-up kick to the chest forced me onto my back. " _That_  was for forcing me to follow you out here. And  _this_ -" a new pain struck down below as the voice's owner planted another kick straight into my groin, "-is for everything else."

I curled up protectively around my numbing private parts with a painful groan, scowling darkly at the voice's owner as she stood over me with a triumphant smirk plastered across her face.

"Y-you know…I'm pretty sure I only deserved about a third of that."

"What? You thought I was just going to let you get killed out here?" Astrid folded her arms across her chest as I gingerly got to my feet. "Anyway, you're a soldier Hiccup. You know what the brass does to guys that go AWOL?"

"That's only if I'm caught," I dusted myself off with as much dignity as I could, "and like most deserters, being caught isn't exactly high on my list of things to do today."

"Well, that worked out well didn't it?" Astrid smirked again. "We can't be more than six klicks from the parameter, right? That was some escape plan you had there, smart guy."

Putting aside Astrid's amazing judge of distance, the question of how she had had the foresight to hide in my trailer was beginning to bug me. It wasn't as though I'd packed everything a few days beforehand, which meant she must have seen me hook it up to the motorcycle about an hour ago.

Her clothes were also looking rumpled and creased, from her khaki pants to her sky blue shirt and grey bomber jacket. Even her usually pristine braid had a few stray hairs poking out at odd angles, as though she had been sleeping with it made up.

Did that mean…?

"Have you been following me?"

Astrid flinched, apparently caught off guard by the question. It was only for an instant, however, her gaze hardening as though to cover the slip of her mask.

"A soldier gone AWOL isn't just bad for you, it will be bad for the squad. I'm not about to let you put a black mark on my record just because playing soldier doesn't suit you anymore. That said…" she cast an unimpressed gaze across the field, "if this is your idea of living in exile, I'm starting to think I didn't have much to worry about," she smirked at me again. "Were you just going to hide out here until people stopped talking about you, or did you really think your dad wouldn't think to look for you right under his nose?"

"If I say yes, will you go home and pretend you never saw me?"

"Oh, now you look like you have something to hide." she took a step towards me, the smirk never leaving her face. I took an uneasy step back, "And that's good, because I wanted an excuse to ask you about things that just haven't been making sense to me." She took another step. I took another back in turn. "You don't just get to the top of the pile and then try to get out of it, right?" She was advancing now, and I could do nothing but back-pedal into the grass. "So if you're going to be leaving anyway, you may as well tell me your secret. How'd you get so good at taking out Dragonoids?"

I smiled tightly and locked my legs, refusing to move an inch more even when Astrid came up to me nose-to-nose. I had no idea how far we were from the lip of the crater, and I didn't want to risk Astrid catching sight of the Night Fury through the long grass. Or worse, actually falling in.

So I stood still, and smiled.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said quietly, "so please, walk away and forget you saw me. You can take the bike if you like. The supplies too. Just…leave me alone."

"You're not helping yourself," her humourless smile mirrored my own. "I want to know what's going on, Hiccup. No one just  _gets_  as good as you did.  _Especially_ you. You had something on your side, and you're going to tell me your secret."

I knew I shouldn't say it, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You…can't make me?"

"Can't I?" even though the smile never left her face, I could still hear the incredulous tone in Astrid's voice. "Are you going to try and stop me?"

"Me? No."

I saw her look of confusion for only a moment before she vanished from sight, plucked from the ground by a humanoid shaped blur clad in black as it leapt over us, her screams echoing over the field followed swiftly by the unique sound of two people being rolled down a crater's side.

"Ruusaan? Different story."

* * *

Astrid forced down the bile at the back of her throat as she felt herself tumble down a steep slope, her elbows and legs banging into rocky earth as the black blur on top of her that was keeping her wrists in a vice-like grip insured she couldn't escape even if she wanted too.

That all changed the moment they hit the bottom of the slope. Pain shot across Astrid's chest as the blur kicked her away hard and sent her sprawling like a rag doll thrown across a room by an angry child. Her mouth tasted of copper as she bit down on her lip and crashed to the ground, again pushing away the urge to throw up as she rolled to a stop facing the early morning sky.

The blur wasn't done. Astrid had barely caught her breath before she found its' weight thrown against her, the blade of a large lethal looking knife in its humanoid hand pressed against her throat.

She could see a single eye staring down at her through a hole in a helmet's visor; an iris of emerald green, surrounded by white, split from top to bottom by a narrow black slit of a pupil.

"Who…what are you?" Even as she asked the question, Astrid felt she already knew the answer.

"Ruusaan!" The sound of Hiccup's voice broke her from her stupor. She could hear him scrambling down the slope off to one side, but she didn't dare break eye contact with the alien above her. "Let her go!"

The eye darted towards him, then settled back on her.

"Dalyc la eyn aru'ela Hallex." the muffled voice that came from behind the helmet was high and surprisingly feminine. "Ni nuhaatyc-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Hiccup's voice was louder now. She could feel his footsteps through the ground as he approached. "She's not the enemy you hear!? Nayc aru'ela! Now get off her before you do something we'll both regret."

The alien didn't move.

"Pir be'chaaj, Ruusaan!"

With an annoyed growl, the alien (she refused to call it what she already knew it was until she had been told) pushed itself off her and to its feet, one hand sheathing the knife while the other pulled the helmet off its head and tossed it angrily to one side. Astrid stared open-mouthed at the alien's face behind the mask. She took in its' long narrow face, looking slightly too small atop its' thick armour, bone-white skin, eyes set just enough into the skull to be noticeable and jet black hair flowing over small ridges of bone where its ears should be and down to the small of her back…

And as it snarled in Hiccup's direction, she couldn't take her eyes off a row of long pointed teeth hidden behind its pale lips.

"Dalyc la eyn aru'ela Hallex!" It…she?…glared down at Hiccup angrily, standing a good few feet taller than the human before her. "Dalyc keh aht kadala gar!"

"She's not…I mean…" Hiccup gave an annoyed sigh before trying again. "Dalyc gai la Astrid. Dalyc gai burc'ya, bal dalyc ne'naas suvarir."

The alien's eyes widened, just as Astrid felt her jaw drop at what she was seeing. Hiccup was talking in a language no human had even fully understood without the help of a translation matrix in front of them, and once more, the alien was responding to him.

The alien stared at Hiccup, then turned its (her?) gaze to Astrid with narrowed eyes. It turned back to Hiccup.

"Riduur?"

"What!? N-no! What gave you that…" whatever the alien had said had made Hiccup's face turn beet red. He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily as he tried to regain his composure. "No, it's nothing like that. She's just…" he glanced over at her, as though looking for inspiration. As he met her eyes however, whatever embarrassment he'd been feeling evaporated. When he turned back to the alien, Astrid watched a strange calm come over him, as though looking at her had forced the feeling away.

The thought made her feel cold for some reason.

"Dalyc la Alor." he said simply. "Bal burc'ya."

The alien gave Hiccup a hard stare, before turning its gaze back to Astrid. It seemed to glare at her, its eyes accusing her of…something. After a moment more, it turned and walked away without a backward glance.

"Gar taylir haamyc ol'averde, Hallex."

"Yeah well, you're a Dragonoid, so you can't really talk." Hiccup rolled his eyes with a bitter smile as he turned back to Astrid, offering her his hand. "Are you alright?" Astrid scowled up at him in response. "Don't look at me like that. I told you, you wouldn't believe me. I told you to go back to The Dome. If you'd just done tha-"

She kicked him, hard. The sound of her boot connecting with the side of his face making for a satisfying thud as he was forced to the ground. The Dragonoid was on its feet before he had hit the ground. It ran towards her with frightening speed as Astrid pulled herself to her feet, knife in its' hand and poised to attack.

"Ruusaan!"

The Dragonoid stopped giving Hiccup a disbelieving look as he struggled to get back up, rubbing his jaw sorely.

"Hallex! Dalyc kadala gar!"

"And from where she's standing she has every right to." he glanced at Astrid, then turned back to the Dragonoid. "Gar chaah dalyc."

The alien stared incredulously. "Ni chaah  _dalyc_!?"

"You're really so surprised? Have you even-"

"Stop ignoring me!"

Hiccup's shoulders slumped, turning back to her with a hard stare. She glared at him in return, her hands balled into shaking fists.

"You've sunk so low, Hiccup."  
"I haven't sunk at-"

"You've sided with  _them,_  Hiccup! The enemy we've been fighting for two and a half centuries!"

"I haven't sided with anyone." Hiccup's voice was a deadly calm, which only enraged her even more. "I'm not a traitor Astrid."

"Well, you're doing a great impression of one!" She reached out to grab him by the shirt, only to pull back when the Dragonoid bared her teeth. She settled for another glare. "There's a Dragonoid behind you, and you're…. _talking_  with it like its' just another-"

"Person?"

"Human being." Astrid's eyes narrowed to slits. "And that thing isn't human Hiccup. Its' killed  _billions_  of us-"

" _Ruusaan_  hasn't killed anyone." There was venom in his voice now, a dark note that actually caught Astrid off guard as he stepped towards her. " _Ruusaan_  got shot down by me on her first sortie, and  _Ruusaan_  hasn't even  _hurt_  anyone since she landed here. I know what the Dragonoids have done. Don't you dare think I've forgotten, but I also know that I can't blame Ruusaan for every death in this war, just like she can't blame you for every Dragonoid we've shot down." He frowned as Astrid rolled her eyes. "Your dad said-"

"My dad said a lot of things," Astrid snapped, "and look where it got him. I'm not my father Hiccup, I know who my enemies are. And if you've sided with that one," she turned her glare on the Dragonoid, who merely growled in response, "then you're just as bad as all of them."

Hiccup didn't reply. He didn't move when she backed up one step, then another and another. His only movement was to stop the Dragonoid from following her when she turned to break into a full run, determined to get back to The Dome and tell…someone of what she'd seen.

It took all her effort to ignore the heavy feeling in her chest when she realised he wasn't going to even try to stop her.

* * *

"Dah da-dah, mhi kyrayc."

"No, we'll be long gone by the time she gets back." I smiled sadly as I watched Astrid scrambled up the crater's side and disappear over the lip. "I'll give her a minute to figure out the keys for the bike aren't in the ignition and then we can pack up and head out okay?"

I looked up at Ruusaan, then realised I hadn't done anything to help her understand me.

"Erm…ba'slanar…I don't know the word for 'soon' alright? Just…be ready to go? Ar tsikala aht ba'slanar?"

Ruusaan stared at me, a troubled look in her eyes that I'd never seen before. It didn't help my mood.

"Or you can just stand around looking lost," I pushed past her and stalked off towards the Night Fury. "If that helps you, then fine, you can do that too."

I couldn't decide if I was angry or upset. I felt like kicking the ever living daylights out of the next rock that crossed my path, but at the same time, I just wanted to cry. Leaving was supposed to be easy; just load up the Night Fury and jet off for Washington Crater. And if Astrid hadn't been following me…

Just thinking about her brought on a new wave of emotions, my hands balling into fists as I slumped down beside the pool and the grave of the Night Fury's pilot.

I wanted to hate her. I wanted to hate Astrid for putting me through this. If it had been anyone else, if it had been Snotlout, Patrick or even my own father, I could have taken off and left The Dome behind without a backward glance.

But because it was Astrid…

"Gar baatir par dalyc."

I glanced up Ruusaan as she settled down beside me, a strangely blank yet somewhat sad look on her face as she stared out across the water. It was almost as though she was forcibly stopping herself from showing any emotion at all.

"Care? What, for Astrid? What makes you say that?" I asked, this time with my usual array of hand signals.

Ruusaan shrugged, not looking at me directly. "Gar liser haa'taylir bic o'r gar troan. Gar vaabir'naas copaanir dalyc or'parguur aht gar."

Or'parguur. Hate. I laughed hollowly. "It doesn't matter if Astrid hates me or not. Anyway, she's hated me for years. What's she going to do, despise me a bit more?"

"Slanar aht dalyc."

"Go to her?" I stared at my friend incredulously. "Ruusaan, I'm telling you there's no point. By the time she gets back to The Dome-"

"Hyu need ta go!"

My brain ground to a halt, my mind barely registering Ruusaan's hands as they grasped my shoulders in a vice-like grip, her eyes boring into mine with a look of desperation and sadness.

Ruusaan was trying to speak English. It wasn't as though I hadn't heard her try before, and it was far from perfect, but any previous attempt to speak my language had always been repeating things I said to her. Here, she was actually trying to form a sentence on her own.

"Hyu need ta go." she repeated, her voice cracking. "Hyu need ta hexplain. Gaa'taylir dalyc liser; Heylp herr see. Sthop her hate fer hyu."

I stared at her in stunned silence, trying to force my mind back into action. She was trying so hard to make me understand that she was using a language she barely understood.

"Why…why does this matter to you?" I received a blank look. "Tion'jor ne ibic baatir gar? It doesn't matter to me what Astrid thinks of me after we leave her…"

My voice failed me as Ruusaan smiled; a small quiet smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Ni or'parguur bic tion'tuur gar copaani trikar'la." was all she said.

* * *

_TIME: 0817 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, FIVE KLICKS SOUTH EAST OF DOME TERRITORY_

Astrid ran with long strides, cursing ignitions and their need for keys with every step along the cracked road past the ruins of the church. She'd given up on the bike quickly, stopping only to let the air out of both tyres to at least give herself more time to escape, and maybe enough time to bring in reinforcements. She was already kicking herself for forgetting to bring a radio, but if she could just get to one of the outposts, everything would fall into place.

She glanced over her shoulder, the heavy feeling in her chest swiftly returned as she saw the empty road behind her in the morning sun. He wasn't even trying to catch her, not that he could outrun her anyway. Astrid turned back to the road, quickening her pace. Hiccup was making this too easy for her. That irritated her for some reason.

Up ahead, the road split into a T-junction. One road lead up the side of the hill, the route Hiccup had driven out on from Outpost 83RK. The other lead further down into the valley, but was cut off from The Dome by a large tree most likely felled from the heavy autumn storms, big enough to be an annoyance to anyone on a motorbike yet just small enough for someone to leap over with enough momentum. Astrid grinned, quickening her pace towards the log. She pushed off the cracked tarmac with all her might, one hand bracing her against the bark as she vaulted over the log…

And with the scream of a Dragonoid's thrusters, continued up into the air.

For an instant, her heart seemed to stop. As something yanked from behind up into the clouds, she watched with an open mouth as her legs dangled listlessly over the ground that was getting further away with every second.

Then she looked up, straight into the giant glowing green visor of an assault frame sized humanoid head.

To her private disgust, she screamed like a little girl.

The giant head paid her no mind, scooping her up into its hands as it soared up into the air in a wide arc, back towards the ruins of the church. Dust and debris were shaken loose from the tower as the giant approached, grass wilting and tombstones toppling below from the backwash of its thrusters as it hovered near the ancient building.

Pain splashed through her knees and palms as she was unceremoniously dropped onto the tower's roof, bringing her screaming to an abrupt end.

Astrid didn't stop to wait to see what happened next. Back on her feet in an instant, her eyes darted across the tiled roof, desperate for a way down and away from the dark shadow that now hung over her.

To her dismay, all that surrounded her was broken tiles and holes showing the stone floor below to be  _very_  far away.

 _"I need you to stop for a moment."_ Hiccup's voice was loud in her ears, loud enough to be heard over the deafening sound of the thrusters as the giant landed near to the tower.  _"I'll let you down in a minute I promise."_

Astrid grit her teeth at her own stupidity as she realised now it could only be a Dragonoid that had captured her. A Dragonoid pilot needed a Dragonoid to pilot after all, even if the mech was more humanoid than dragonish. She glared defiantly up into the visor of the giant, her fists clenched at her sides. It was one thing for Hiccup to have sided with  _them_ , but to pilot their machines…

 _"I want to explain, and I want you to listen."_  His voice was still infuriatingly calm.  _"Please, just give me a chance-"_

"I am not listening to  _anything_  you have to say!" The anger blazed within her, words spilling from her mouth in a torrent. "There is nothing you could say that could justify this!"

 _"Then I won't speak,"_  the hatch in the Dragonoid's chest opened up with a hiss as the thrusters died, Hiccup pulling himself out of the cockpit, "but please Astrid, just talk to  _her_. I'm not asking that you become best friends or anything. I just want you to see that at least one Dragonoid isn't the war thirsty demon you think she is."

Astrid glared up at him, eyes narrowed, fists clenched at her sides. He scowled down at her, and for a moment she thought he might actually leave her to rot…

But then his shoulders slumped.

"Fine," he shrugged as he stepped back into the cockpit.  _"At least I can say I tried."_ Astrid stepped back as a mecha-sized came down palm up beside her.  _"Hop on. I'll let you off an hour or two away from here, I promise."_

Astrid eyed the hand warily and the robot it was attached to.

_"Or I can leave and you can try and get down yourself. I'm not picky at this point."_

The sergeant scowled, but bit down on an acid retort. Almost every fibre of her being told her to stay away from Hiccup and his Dragonoid, both machine and alien life form. Instinct screamed at her to turn away, to find her own way down the tower and get back to the Dome, maybe fast enough to warn the others of Hiccup's betrayal before he was out of the Military Police's reach…

It was to her complete disbelief that she found her feet moving her towards the hand, hands slowly pulling her past its' giant fingers into the palm of the mech's hand.

_"See? Was that so hard?"_

She glowered up into the mech's face, bracing a hand against one of the fingers so Hiccup wouldn't see it shaking.

"Get. Me. Down…Now."

_"Alright, alright, just give me a second…"_

Seconds passed, the mecha standing silently over her. A full minute passed before her anger overcame her.

"NOW HICCUP!"

The roar of the Dragonoid's thrusters was her reply. Beneath her feet, the mech's hand twisted out from under her, pain flashing through her shoulder as she hit the metal palm. Then the fingers closed around her, holding her tight in her grasp as the great machine transformed and roared into the sky.

Terror gripped Astrid's mind, and she screamed once more.

* * *

Something had gone wrong.

The Night Fury was acting on its own. Without word or warning, it had rocketed into the sky, transformed into its Dragonoid mode and now soared high up towards the thermosphere.

And Astrid was still outside.

I had no idea how I managed to move against the gravity crushing down on me, but somehow I managed to pull myself out of the cockpit chair, the hatch bursting open with an angry hiss as I kicked the emergency release. The wind howled in my ears as I dropped down onto the shield, the air already far colder in my lungs than it had been on the ground. The Night Fury was rocketing upwards at a shallow angle, but the last time it had been out of control I had breached the stratosphere in minutes. That memory alone was reason enough to hurry now.

Astrid was screaming, her eyes focused on the ground rapidly shrinking below her as she struggled in the Night Fury's grasp. The mech's fingers held her tight against its' palm, just hard enough to keep her stuck in its' grasp. My body felt like lead as I practically dragged myself across the shield, eyes always on my sergeant, and never on the empty air that I was one wrong step from falling into.

"Astrid!"

Somehow she heard me over the whistling wind and the roar of the thrusters, the screams stopping in an instant as she saw me above her with hand outstretched. The fear disappeared, replaced by anger as she swatted the hand away. I stared at her exasperatedly, watching as struggled against the Dragonoid's grip.

"Really? You're doing this now?"

She glared up at me, before going back to tugging desperately at her single trapped arm. "I don't need your help, Hiccup!"

"I'm not saying you do, but you're less likely to die out here if you accept it just this once." I reached out again. "Come on Astrid, don't be a-"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She swung wildly with her free fist, eyes wide and teeth bared "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP! I'LL NEVER NEED YOU-"

"TAKE MY HAND HOFFERSON!"

She stared at me, mouth agape, and I glared back with all the fury I could muster. I was done being nice. I was done trying to fix everything. If she couldn't even let go of her stupid hatred at fifty thousand feet, what chance did I have to change her mind on the ground?

I still wasn't going to let her die though.

I took advantage of her stupor, leaning out dangerously far to catch the arm frozen mid-swing. Her fingers worked on their own, almost automatically latching around my wrist as I gripped I returned in kind. I braced myself and pulled back hard, precious inches gained as the horizon slowly curved and the air quickly thinned. As her other arm came free, Astrid's brain seemed to catch up with her body. She started to struggle again, this time wiggling closer to freedom with every pull. With a sudden jolt, she came clear, my grip almost lost on the shield as she crashed into me.

I couldn't stop. I kept moving back along the shield. My lungs screamed for air. Spots danced across my vision. My body felt like dead weight and Astrid felt just as heavy, half dragged behind me. My fingers slipped on the edge of the hatch as I blacked out. First for a second, then three…

As the stars of the universe glowed overhead, I felt my grip slide away completely from the Night Fury's freezing metal…

* * *

Astrid saw Alex fall.

She had looked up when she'd felt his hand go slack in hers, just in time to see his other hand miss the hatch as his body slumped.

Her mouth screamed his name, her frozen legs pushing her forward with arms wide as she watched her friend fall. Her body seemed to ignore everything. The numbness of her limbs, the whistling in her ears now drowning out all other sound and the taste of jagged ice stinging her tongue. All she could see was Alex falling away, past her and down to the ground far below. All she could think about was catching him.

His feet hadn't even left the shield when she caught him.

Adrenaline now pushed her forward. Her lungs burned, her vision was fading and Alex felt heavy in her arms. But she managed to move forward, one urgent step after another until her shoulder slammed into the hatch door.

There was a hiss. The slab of metal swung up, taking Astrid and Alex with it. Darkness swallowed them both, and with it came blissful silence. For a little while anyway.

_"Hatch sealed. Cockpit is airtight. Airflow stable. Query Pilot: are you incapacitated?"_

Astrid didn't care who was talking or where the voice was coming from. She just lay atop the hatch door, breathing heavily, grinning like a maniac, and solemnly swearing never to take oxygen for granted ever again. She was still alive.  _They_  were still alive. Astrid and Alex were still alive…

Her smile disappeared in an instant as she looked down and took in Alex's silent face.

He was so cold, his body crusted with frost and ice. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful. Dead to the world…But not dead to her.

"Wake up." she tried to make it sound like an order, but the quake in her voice shattered that illusion. "Wake up now, Hiccup. You can't just do all this and then die on me. You hear me? Hiccup! HICCUP!" He didn't move, didn't react when she shook him. "…Alex?…"

She refused to panic, refused to let the dread creeping into her thoughts overtake her. She brushed away the frost and ice with urgent hands, ignored trembling fingers as she struggled with the zip on his jacket and pulled it apart to press an ear to his chest.

It was a painful, endless moment before she finally heard his heartbeat. Faint and slow, but a heartbeat all the same. Alex was alive, and with this realisation came warmth and relief flowing through Astrid's body. She held him tight to her, ignoring the wetness that threatened to spill from her eyes.

"I hate you," she whispered into his hair. "I hate that you do this to me."

Alex didn't reply. He was still cold against her skin and Astrid suspected that she wasn't much warmer. She pulled them up into the nearest chair, shedding her own coat and covering them both with it like a blanket, pulling Alex's jacket over their heads. In the darkness she curled up with him, arms around his neck, holding him close. She took comfort in his heart thudding faintly against her chest and the rhythmic breathing on her neck. Alex was alive, and she wasn't alone in this strange machine.

_"Stable orbit established. Query Pilot: are you incapacitated?"_

The Night Fury shuddered, and Astrid suddenly found herself floating away from the chair.

For an instant, confusion and panic set in. She pushed the jacket off her head as her arms pin wheeled, only to wrap around Alex tightly as a new fear overtook her. Everything felt too light. Every movement seemed to give too little resistance with no inertia. A barely remembered science class from her childhood reminded her that there was no gravity in outer space, but stress and panic pushed such important memories to the back of her mind until…until she caught sight of the camera screens.

The Night Fury was parallel to the Earth; the ground far below them and the void of space above. The inky expanse filled Dragonoid's cameras, Earth a curved sliver of blue at the bottom of the screens. But it wasn't a sheet of black that greeted Astrid's eyes, but a trillion points of light scattered across the cosmos.

Stars…how long had it been since she had just stopped at looked at the stars? How long had it been since she had been filled with wonder at the sheer number that dotted the night sky? The universe had once been a source of fascination for her, before her father's death and Alex's…and everything else. But now she was here, the dim cockpit lit up by the unending cosmos, that same childish wonder pushed away years of despair and lies, hatred and discipline. For this one moment, she was seven years old again, hair in pigtails, the metal side of The Dome cool against her back. She reached out to touch the central screen, as though doing so would make the image before her ever more real. A question from history came to her mind, from a time when such questions seemed important to her young mind.

"The Dragonoids," she asked aloud, barely a whisper. "Which star do you think they're from?"

"What does it matter where they came from?" A weak voice replied. "They're here now, aren't they?"

Astrid glanced up, realising too late that Alex had floated away from her in the zero gravity. He was awake though, hovering above her head with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. There was a quietness in his voice too, sad and distant. Astrid frowned, a heavy feeling knotting in her chest. Not for the first time.

"How long was I out?"

"I…I'm not sure." How long  _had_  it been? Minutes? Hours? They had moved into Earth's shadow now, the light of the sun haloing their home. "Not long. Maybe a half hour."

"Where are we?"

"In orbit, I think."

"In orbit? Really?" he scowled, aiming a weak kick at the nearest bulkhead. "Thank you for nothing, you useless robot."

_"Query Pilot: are you incapacitated?"_

"No, I'm very much alive, no thanks to you." Alex pushed down, past Astrid to the cockpit chair. She watched as he tried to move the control sticks, his feet bouncing harmlessly off the pedals. "And I'm still locked out. Why am I still locked out?"

_"Recall signal has been activated."_

Alex stopped, eyes wide. He turned to face the glowing blue orb at the cockpit's rear where Astrid realised the Dragonoid's A.I. was stored.

"What recall signal?"

 _"In times of emergency, the High Superior may recall all available units to the_ Rock of The Assembled _. Recall signal has been activated."_

Alex turned pale. Paler than normal.

"There's a seat behind me. Strap yourself in. Now."

Now Astrid felt uneasy. "What's going o-"

"Don't argue." He shot her a glare; irritated but also afraid. "We'll probably re-enter Earth's atmosphere soon and I don't need any more problems right now."

Astrid bit her lip, but did as she was asked. The more she spoke with this new Alexander McKrillen, the less she liked him. Not that she'd liked the old Alexander much either, she had to remind herself.

The chair was too big for her, built for someone with larger hands and longer legs. She managed to tighten the straps enough to secure her to the hard leather and she held tight to the armrests for good measure.

"Alright I'm in." she sounded calm, at least in her ears. She was just glad Alex couldn't see how white her knuckles had turned as she clenched her hands around the armrest. "Now what's going on? What's the  _Rock of The Assembled_?"

"Somewhere we shouldn't be," Alex scowled, his hands flexing around the control sticks. " _Rock of The Assembled, Ruus beh Tsad Droten,_  is the name of the Dragonoid ship that came down two and half centuries ago." he turned to face her, his face grim. "Astrid, the recall signal is taking us to Washington Crater."

She didn't have time to ask him how he knew this. Without word or warning, the Night Fury suddenly nose-dived down towards the Earth, fire and heat trailing in its' wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Mav gar sushir?"  
> (Will you listen?)
> 
> "Buruk ulur."  
> (Danger detected.)
> 
> "Dalyc la eyn aru'ela Hallex. Ni nuhaatyc-"  
> (She is an enemy Alex. I can't-)
> 
> "Nayc aru'ela!"  
> (No enemy!)
> 
> "Pir be'chaaj Ruusaan!"  
> (Get away Ruusaan!)
> 
> "Dalyc la eyn aru'ela Hallex! Dalyc keh aht kadala gar!"  
> (She is an enemy Alex! She tried to hurt you!)
> 
> "Dalyc gai la Astrid. Dalyc gai burc'ya, bal dalyc ne'naas suvarir."  
> (Her name is Astrid. She is a friend, and she doesn't understand.)
> 
> "Riduur?"  
> (Girlfriend?)  
> Note: The actual word here means partner, but is also used to generally mean someone close to you, namely boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife. Girlfriend is just how Hiccup interprets it.
> 
> "Dalyc la Alor. Bal burc'ya"  
> (She is my Superior. And a friend.)
> 
> "Gar taylir haamyc ol'averde Hallex."  
> (You keep unusual company Alex.)
> 
> "Hallex! Dalyc kadala gar!"  
> (Alex! She hurt you!)
> 
> "Gar chaah dalyc."  
> (You scare her.)
> 
> "Ni chaah dalyc!?"  
> (I scare her?!)
> 
> "Dah da-dah, mhi kyrayc."  
> (Da da da, we dead.)
> 
> "…ba'slanar…"  
> (…leave…)
> 
> "Ar tsikala aht ba'slanar?"  
> (Be ready to leave?)
> 
> "Gar baatir par dalyc."  
> (You care for her.)
> 
> "Gar liser haa'taylir bic o'r gar troan. Gar vaabir'naas copaanir dalyc or'parguur aht gar."  
> (You can see it in your face. You don't want her to hate you.)
> 
> "Slanar aht dalyc."  
> (Go to her.)
> 
> "gaa'taylir dalyc liser."  
> (Help her see.)
> 
> "Tion'jor ne ibic baatir gar?"  
> (Why does this worry you?)
> 
> "Ni or'parguur bic tion'tuur gar copaani trikar'la."  
> (I hate it when you are sad.)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> Cowell's Eatery and Bar was inspired by Harry's, a cafe seen in the anime 'Witch Hunter Robin'. Its' mismatch of cultures is my personal in-joke, as I wasn't sure what kind of place it was going to be. I wanted it to be a place Alex and co would meet up at after training and missions and such, but in the end this was the only scene I used it for.
> 
> The music on the jukebox is Lithium Flower, the ending credits song from the anime Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex, as sung by Scott Matthew. No real reason why, I just really like that song.
> 
> I'll leave you to figure out who the bartender (and owner) is supposed to be.
> 
> Not much to say today, mostly because what I want to talk about would be spoiling future chapters. Next time we're steering back into original territory, so I hope you'll look forward to that.
> 
> See you next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**SECTION 09**

**DEEP WITHIN THE ROCK**

_DATE: JANUARY 7, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0240 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)_

_LOCATION: NORTH AMERICA, WASHINGTON CRATER_

When I'd first decided to take Ruusaan back home, the thought that I'd actually see Washington Crater had never crossed my mind. The plan had always been to drop her off far from sensor range, miles even from the crater's lip, let alone the fallen spacecraft in its' centre.

But now I was; in a Dragonoid, flanked on either side by every in-service Dragonoid imaginable in numbers that would haunt even a veteran's nightmares. And we were all heading for Washington Crater.

The night was dark, a sliver of a crescent moon the brightest light in the sky. By the dim glow, the cragged walls of the crater's lip loomed out of the darkness. Two hundred and fifty years of weathering had taken its toll. The sea and rain had worn the lip down. Great chunks had fallen away entirely, creating bizarre towers and natural openings to a harbour created by the flooding of the basin. It was through one of these openings that we flew, into the crater towards the great ship that lay in its centre.

 _Ruus beh Tsad Droten._ The  _Rock of The Assembled._

Ruusaan had told me stories about her home, just as I had told her things about The Dome. Nothing that would help either of us in the middle of a battle, of course. Just little things, like her favourite places to eat and my favourite time to walk through New Hyde Park. One thing Ruusaan had never conveyed though was the  _Rock's_  sheer size.

It stood in the crater's centre; a tower of charcoal grey metal, easily ten kilometres high, perhaps three kilometres around its widest point two-thirds of the way up. Three layers of giant metal wings, each a crimson red, spread out and downwards from around a structure on its top like petals of a drooping flower. A trio of thruster nozzles the size of mobile fortresses were semi-hidden under the shadows of the largest petals, many more chains of smaller manoeuvring thrusters jutting out from under the other two layers like caves worn into a cliff. Three giant struts anchored the ship to the crater's sides, and many small additions appeared to have been added, removed or built over time and again onto the once streamlined hull. From below it was lit by a dull red glow, rising up with the smoke from the industrial looking complexes that spread out of the  _Rock's_  base. Beyond that, most of the waters seemed devoted to fisheries and the like. I couldn't see anything that even resembled a warship or Mobile Fortress. The Dragonoids knew they had superiority in the air. Why change the habits of a lifetime?

"What my Dad wouldn't give to find this."

"Is this really a good time to be thinking about that?" Astrid's voice broke through my awe, the tenseness in her tone poorly hiding obvious fear. "You know they're going to kill us when they find us right?"

"I was…trying not to think about that." I slumped back in my chair, throwing Astrid an annoyed glance over my shoulder. I was completely helpless, locked in a metal coffin to which the Dragonoids had the key. Even if the Night Fury was released from the recall signal, there was nothing to stop this 'High Superior' from activating it again the minute we tried to turn tail and run. If I just had a moment to think-

_"Recall signal disengaged."_

…

"Wait, wha-"

The Night Fury lurched, suddenly without a pilot, automated or otherwise. My hands and feet were at the controls in an instant, stopping the Dragonoid's descent into a nearby Nadder by inches.

"What happened?" Astrid looked around at her screens wildly, wide-eyed and breathing heavily from the sudden drop.

"I'm back in control." I didn't know whether to feel elated or despondent that I was actually in control. "Go me."

"Good, then let's get out of here!"

"We can't. We have to make sure the recall signal doesn't affect the Fury again. We need to set down so I can figure out how to stop the signal getting through." I made sure the radio was switched off and the stealth systems were engaged. A Night Fury's stealth systems only cloaked it electronically. Anyone looking out a window would see it coming, but anyone looking through a sensor relay or even an ordinary camera would see nothing but a blur of static, easily mistaken for a camera malfunction. Hopefully, the sheer number of Dragonoids coming into land might do the rest to keep us hidden.

Astrid looked like she wanted to argue, but quickly shut up when I stared her down. I no longer cared. I was done being nice. Done explaining and done arguing. By the looks of things, she might actually have understood what was happening. I ignored the confused, hurt look in her eyes and turned back to the colossal structure before us.

The closer we flew, the more…strange the  _Rock_ appeared. It had looked strange at a distance, with its mess of additional structures jutting out seemingly at random. But up close, I could see that the fabric of the hull appeared damaged. Scorch marks marked the metal; great tears had been gouged through bulkheads and craters had been blown clear through to a darkened interior within. What made it strange though was that none of the damage was recent. Rust scattered the edges of bent metal, burns were faded and only stood out because of the newer structures that had been built around them. Lights of civilisation dusted the hull in levels like the floors of a skyscraper, but patches of darkness surrounded each piece of damage, not even a warning light to mark possible repair programs.

"What kind of engineer leaves battle damage un-repaired and exposed for so long?"

"It's not battle damage." I turned around at the puzzlement in Astrid's voice. Her eyes were on her screen, a puzzled frown creasing her face. "Look at the intensity of the scorch marks. They all start strong near the base and then fade out near the top. This has to be damage from re-entry."

"But look at other damage," I scowled in irritation as I turned back. "Most of them look like whatever created these holes hit the ship from the outside. It's almost as though they're preserving old battle scars…"

If Astrid had an answer, I didn't give her time to voice it. Already the  _Rock_  towered over us, bright lights leading us and every Dragonoid around us upwards towards hangers that yawned open for us halfway up the hull. I followed the others for as long as I dared, slowing down and inching upwards to the top of the group. As we reached the great doors I pulled the Fury into a near vertical climb, ignoring Astrid's surprised yelp and the alarms warning me I was way too close to the  _Rock of the Assembled_ 's hull. I watched the screens carefully, looking for something I desperately needed.

"There."

"What? What do you see?"

"An opening. We can put down there."

I bought the Fury around, hovering before a great wound in the  _Rock's_  side. Whatever had blasted through here had had enough explosive force to tear a chunk out of three decks with it. Darkness spread out around a gaping hole big enough for the Night Fury to squeeze through, the Dragonoid civilisation keeping understandably clear of a possibly unsafe location.

I eased the Fury forward, wincing at the scraping of metal as one of the wings clipped the damaged hull, the noise of thrusters in an enclosed space sending shudders through the wrecked structure and dislodging dust from burned out rafters. The exposed metal deck groaned under the Dragonoid's weight as it touched down, but held as the thrusters died into silence.

I waited a moment, just to see if the images running through my mind of a horde of heavily armed Dragonoids coming bursting through the cracks would come true, before releasing a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

"So…" Astrid tentatively broke the silence. "What do we do now?"

I rolled my eyes as I retrieved my tablet from my jacket discarded at my feet. The 'we' word was coming up a lot lately. I couldn't remember the last time 'we' was used in the same context as 'Astrid' and 'Alex'…or 'Hiccup'. Normally it was 'you' or 'I' or 'get lost'.

"You don't have to do anything." I concentrated on connecting my tablet to the Fury's computers, ignoring the sparks that jumped from the exposed wires in the USB port. "Ijust need some quiet to isolate the program that receives the recall signal from the Night Fury's computer."

"Can I do-"

"No."

Astrid fell silent, and I ignored the guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach at my harsh tone. I forced myself to remember that if Astrid hadn't run, or had just listened or had even decided to let me go in the first place, we wouldn't be in this situation. If she hadn't shown up, I would have been over the ocean with Ruusaan when the signal came in. Perhaps she could have done something about it. At the very least, having a Dragonoid when you're flying into the heart of Dragonoid territory would have been better than the angry Dragonoid hater currently behind me.

But I couldn't think about that now. Right now I had to drown myself in data, sifting through artificial intelligence protocols, communications subroutines and everything in-between to find anything I could that could stop the Fury from being recalled…

…until I heard someone open the hatch.

I looked up in a panic, just in time to see a blonde plait dart out of the cockpit, the sound of running footsteps fading away. I looked back, just to be sure, a part of me blindly hoping that stress and panic were making me see things. But the chair was empty. Astrid was gone.

I turned back to my tablet, speeding up my search as I struggled to keep calm.

Astrid Hofferson was loose in the home of the Dragonoids. Chances were good we would need a getaway vehicle sometime soon.

* * *

Astrid walked in near darkness, a dim glow in the distance her only light, small enough that she could cover it entirely with her thumb but growing with every footstep. She kept close to a wall, one hand feeling her way across smooth dust crusted surfaces and occasionally tripping over rubble and debris not disturbed in centuries. The corridor she had found led directly away from the opening, meaning she was heading towards the core of the  _Rock of The Assembled._  She kept walking forward, ignoring junctions and the odd doorway she crossed. This was recon, she kept telling herself, but recon was useless if she couldn't find her way back to the Night Fury. If Alex…no,  _Hiccup_  she angrily reminded herself…had no use for her, she would make sure someone made use of her trip, even if that use was gathering Intel. for General Stoic.

She wasn't sure how long she had been walking, but the light had grown, now seen to be spilling from a doorway for someone far taller than her. Her footsteps and breathing were no longer the only sound either. She could hear…something; a buzzing that seemed echo from the junctions, doorways and the light up ahead that grew with every step forward. As she drew closer, the buzzing became voices, so many together talking and shouting that she couldn't understand a word even if she had known the language, the groans of machinery and the squeal of metal against metal added to a chaotic symphony. It all sounded familiar somehow, yet alien at the same time. When she finally came to the archway and stepped through into the dim light, she realised why.

She stepped out onto a balcony, cut off from the rest of the ship, and the core of the  _Rock of The Assembled_  stretched out before her. A void three kilometres across, a pillar of light as bright as the full moon shone out from the centre, bathing the innards of the ship in a pale grey light. A city built on tiers wrapped around this central void, layer upon layer of bronze coloured buildings of all shapes and sizes, some extending into the levels above to the size of skyscrapers, some hanging through the ceiling like metallic icicles. All were organized into streets and districts, each level a broad shallow bowl, taller buildings in the rear reflecting light into the darker streets below. The layout was very much the same; Ring roads cut across five wide avenues set like points of a star, each lined with strange trees with leaves of gold and silver. Parkland seemed to take up at least one corner of each level. The one that stretched out below her was filled with statues and fountains, frescoes and mosaics of pictures that held no meaning to her. Each tier was connected the others by a vast network of silvery rails that snaked its way around the edge of the void, rose red trams gliding from platform to platform like autumn leaves on a stream.

And the people…so many different kinds of people. The Dragonoids numbered in thousands to a tier. Tall, short (although most still looked taller than her), fat, trim, with skin colours ranging from bone white to slate grey, hair of jet black to bright blond and elder grey and clothing in every colour in too many styles to count. She saw people walk the streets, window shopping in stores with names she didn't know. In the park below her, she could see children playing and arguing while parents looked on and chatted with each other. A beggar sat on a street corner, nodding in thanks for spare change dropped in a battered hat. A market had been set up in a nearby plaza, filled with the noise of stall owners shouting their wares and arguing with customers who wanted lower prices. The elderly walked the paths, admiring the scenery while couples did the same, admiring each other.

Astrid felt sick. She backed away into the darkness beyond the archway, scrunching her eyes tight and covering her ears to drown herself in silence. She forced the scenes from her mind. She tried to keep hold of the picture she knew, the picture she trusted. That Dragonoids were killers, murderers of the human race. They were vicious, unfeeling monsters…

"They can't be normal."

"Why not?"

She reacted on instinct, a hand reaching for the speaker in the dark and throwing him against the wall, an arm pressed across his neck.

It took her a moment to realise her 'assailant' was too short to be a Dragonoid…and spoke English. Hiccup for his part tried to look nonchalant from under the knit cap he'd pulled low over his ears. He might have been successful had she not been blocking his windpipe.

"They're not allowed to be normal," she hissed. "They're not allowed to have normal lives and normal days."

"Why?" his words were wheezed, but he didn't stutter. "Because they're the enemy?"

"Because they're vicious, Hiccup. Soulless killing machines. They've murdered so many and left us with so little. They shouldn't be allowed to be happy and carefree and  _normal_  like…like…"

"Mesh'la!"

She froze, and Hiccup mirrored what she thought was her expression. They turned as one towards the archway, and the tiny (by Dragonoid standards) figure that stood framed in the dim light.

"…Like that."

* * *

She stared up at us, a kid perhaps three Earth years or less and no taller in feet. Bright blue eyes were wide with wonder, mouth agape just enough to see her tiny but no less sharp teeth. Her dirty blonde hair was a tangled mess that fell over her ear ridges and about her pale grey face to her shoulders. The hem of her off-white dress was stained with mud, along with her red stockings and shoes.  _Someone_ had been playing too close to the flowerbeds.

"Mesh'la!" her voice was an excited squeak as she bounced on the balls of her feet. She took several steps towards us, then jumped back as though she had been burned. "Nayc! Nayc slanar!" She looked back at us again, face scrunched up in annoyance. "Al mesh'la!"

Astrid eyed the kid Dragonoid warily, the pressure of her arm against my throat lessening. "What…what is she saying?"

"Mesh'la…" I fished my tablet from my jacket, flicking through the translation matrix's dictionary. "Mesh'la, mesh'la…" I blinked at the entry, and tried very hard not to grin. "She thinks you're pretty. Or… _I'm_  pretty. Something's pretty, that's for sure."

"What!?" Astrid's head whipped round to me fast enough to hear her neck bones click. She stared at me, like a deer caught in headlights. "S-she can't. I'm…a-and she…"

"Well, to be fair she doesn't know you're not…you know…" I smirked slightly, "not normal."

"Nayc slanar!"

The girl was hopping from foot to foot now, inching forward and back again with hands outstretched towards us. I glanced down at my tablet, a frown passing over my face as I took in her translated words.

_No go._

Something about the corridor was stopping this girl, something had been engrained in her mind that she shouldn't even step over the threshold. It wasn't fear though. Her eyes kept glancing up, annoyed at something out of sight, something keeping her from getting close.

So I smiled as best I could, pushed Astrid away, and closed the gap between Human and Dragonoid.

"Hiccup?" Astrid reached out in alarm. I dodged her hand and kept walking. "What are you doing?"

I smiled, but not at her, my eyes staying forward towards the Dragonoid girl now watching me approach. She had stopped her dancing, eyes now wary as I crouched down to her level just inside the archway. She didn't run, though. Whether it was out of bravery, curiosity or she simply didn't know any better I couldn't say. I hoped I was looking as friendly as possible, and spoke quietly in case I scared her off.

"Tion'jor nayc slanar?"

_Why no go?_

The Dragonoid frowned, squinting at my mouth and eyes as she probably noticed flat teeth and circular pupils. She still didn't run though, and if she realised I wasn't like her she didn't show it. Instead, all she did was point upward, to the top of the arch.

The archway was surprisingly ornate for something that led to a blown out crater in the  _Rock's_  side. Pillars of stone rose up on either side, meeting at the top at a large silver plaque, the jagged lines and triangular shapes of the Dragonoid language carved into the metal in large bold words. I raised my tablet to the plaque, letting the camera take the words in. They flickered on the screen, changing once, then twice before my eyes.

 _Suum_ _olar, kadal arasuumir._ _Bic la payt tenn bid mhi mav ratiin partaylir._

"Beyond here, a wound remains. It is left open so we will always remember."

"A wound?" Astrid turned, looking back down the darkened tunnel. "They left the damage alone to remember something?"

"Guess you were right. Preserving old battle scars and all that…" I scratched my chin thoughtfully as I stood up, "but there has to be something more to this. The Dragonoids are big on remembering the dead, buts it's always left to the individual to decide whether or not a person is worth remembering." Astrid stared at me, confusion obvious. "Dragonoids believe that a well-remembered spirit is more likely to be reincarnated than return to the Universe after death. What a person does with their life is supposed to be a key factor; battles they fought in, people they saved, that sort of thing. But influence on the people around them is important too. For you to return, other people; family, friends, comrades, need to  _want_  to remember you. Stories that you were a part of, battles, emergencies, regime changes,  _need_ to go down in history. The only name engraved in stone should be your tombstone, so a monument like this shouldn't even have been built. If people died here, then it's up to family and friends to remember them."

"But there aren't any names here. Just a vague reminder to remember what happened." Astrid came out into the light, staring up at the plaque thoughtfully. "So if it's not about the Dragonoids that were lost. Maybe it's about the event itself…"

"Mhi partaylir. Nayc digur. Al enteyor takisit."

We both jumped, the Dragonoid girl momentarily forgotten.

She stared up at us, head cocked to one side, not angry or afraid but, if anything, confused. I looked down at my tablet and its translation matrix and the words displayed on the screen.

Astrid leaned over my shoulder, her hand tightening around my arm as she saw what I saw.

"We remember. No forget. But must…forgive."

"Mesh'la jorhaa'ir nuh'la." The girl was still staring. Astrid stared back.

"What's she saying?"

"She thinks we talk funny."

"She thinks  _we_  talk funny?"

"Yeah, it's like we're speaking another language or something."

Astrid glared at my smirk as she pushed me away.

"Tion'jo mesh'la jorhaa'ir nuh'la?"

"Err…" I smiled nervously. The girl looked to be getting suspicious. "Kaysh…mirsh la…solus?"

The girl blinked, then smacked a hand to her mouth as a giggle bubbled up her throat. It didn't seem to help, the kid doubled over with smothered laughter in a matter of moments. Every time she seemed to calm down, one look in Astrid's direction and the laughter quickly attacked her again.

Astrid gave her a strange look, but even I could see the smile trying to pull the corners of her mouth up. "What did you say to her?"

I shrugged, just glad to feel the weight of suspicion lifting from everyone's shoulders. That, and I wasn't about to tell Astrid I'd called her an idiot in a language she didn't understand. "It…loses something in the translation."

The laughter finally subsided, the now smothering hiccups as she grinned up at us.

"Juuniis!" Her squeaked announcement was accompanied by the clack of her heels coming together, a small hand coming across her chest to close into a fist over her heart. If she hadn't been grinning and had been more around Ruusaan's height, it might have been intimidating.

"Alex." I mimicked her movements with a smile of my own, careful not to show my teeth. A sharp elbow to Astrid's ribs made her reluctantly do the same.

"Astrid."

"Juuniis, Hallex bal Hastrid." the girl pointed to each of us in turn, apparently proud of her mangling of our names. "Burc'ya an!"

"Boor-sha ahn?" Astrid looked to me, faintly annoyed.

"Burc'ya an," I smiled, but not at Astrid, as I knelt down before the beaming Dragonoid once more. "Juuniis, Alex and Astrid. Friends all."

I saw my sergeant stare then look away, feet shuffling her back into the darkness, clearly uncomfortable. I didn't blame her. It was hard to see the cold-blooded killers we were trained to fight in Juuniis' gap-toothed grin. A grin that was fading fast into a worried frown as she saw Astrid's unease. She looked between Astrid and me, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Dalyc copaanir aht suvarir." I hoped I sounded reassuring. "Tion'jor sirbur takisit?"

_She wants to understand. Why say forgive?_

Now Juuniis looked uncomfortable. She looked down at her muddy shoes, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Ori'vod sirbur mirdir aabir'naas kar'taylir. Ashi vaabir'naas emuurir kaysh jorhaa'ir meyg." She scowled, small hands twisting agitatedly in front of her. "Ori'vod jorhaa'ir nay solet." Her eyes suddenly widened, the grin returning in a flash. "Ori'vod liser ba'jurir! Ba'jurir mesh'la Hastrid!"

She made to grab for Astrid's hand, then seemed to jump back mid-leap, remembering she wasn't supposed to go past the archway. She settled for my hand instead, almost pulling me clear off my knees with her energy. "Ori'vod liser ba'jurir! Ori'vod liser ba'jurir!"

"Whoa slow down! Gev! Gev already!" I struggled to keep a grip on my tablet with one hand and stop Juuniis from pulling me off the balcony altogether. Astrid watched on, a small smile barely hidden. The translation matrix buzzed angrily, not used to translating at the speed the Dragonoid girl was talking. "What was that about your brother? Jii, cin vhetin. Meg liser gar'ra ori'vod vaabir?"

Juuniis gave me an impatient pout, bouncing on the balls of her feet and tugging on my arm.

"Ori'vod liser ba'jurir," she spoke slowly and deliberately. "Ba'jurir mesh'la Hastrid." lowered her voice, covering her mouth with a hand as though she was about to reveal a big secret. "Vaabir'naas sushir  _nay_ muun. Kaysh mirsh kyramud."

"She says her brother can teach us…something." I frowned at the screen as Astrid hesitantly stepped up behind me to get a better look. "Also, he's apparently a brain assassin." I smacked the side of the tablet, the matrix flickered. "Nope, he's just boring."

"Ori'vod liser ba'jurir! Ba'jurir mesh'la Hastrid!"

"Hey wait a minute!" Astrid jerked back, but Juuniis had already latched onto her arm, dragging her out of the darkened corridor towards the ramp that twisted down to the park below. "What's going on? Where's she taking me? And why is she so strong!?"

I didn't say a word. I just followed on behind, a part of me curious as to where Juuniis was taking us, a part of me trying so very hard not to laugh at Astrid's futile attempts to break free from the little Dragonoid's grip.

* * *

"This is a bad idea."

"So you've said."

"Why haven't they seen us yet? Is there something wrong with the lighting?"

"Dragonoids are nocturnal. Moonlight's all they need to see with. Juuniis can see a lot better here than you can. Just keep your head down and don't smile with your teeth. We'll be fine."

"I  _really_  don't feel like smiling right now."

Hiccup grinned, something that was more unnerving than a comfort. He seemed totally at ease, and that infuriated her even more. A normal human being shouldn't be able to walk through the heart of the Dragonoid homeland, hand-in-hand with a Dragonoid child, and manage to keep a grin on his face. Astrid just kept her head down, her free hand checking the knit cap that Hiccup had given her was still tight over her ears.

The Dragonoids that passed by towered over them, all of them more interested in the gardens and each other than the two humans being dragged along by a Dragonoid child. She heard someone laughing behind her. Up ahead, a young male burst into tears as a girl strode away shouting angry words over her shoulder. An old man was reading something from a tablet computer under the shade of a silvery tree. A mother and her children were feeding leftovers to a flock of small, green flying lizards like breadcrumbs to pigeons. A busker had drawn a crowd to a plaza with his soothing music, his instrument something akin to a miniature twin necked cello he'd braced on his knee and somehow produced a four-part harmony. No matter where Astrid looked, normality stared right back, albeit played out by seven to nine-foot tall extraterrestrials.

It wasn't fair. Each new sight twisted in her mind, leaving a sick taste in her mouth and a tightness in her chest. Dragonoids were supposed to be vicious, bloodthirsty killers. When she had thought of the ship in Washington Crater, she had thought of darkened corridors, grizzled trophies and not a lizard-like Dragonoid in sight that wasn't encased in heavy spiked armour of some kind. Normality like this, like what she was seeing and hearing, was supposed to be the way humans lived.

Juuniis was blissfully unaware of the torment she was putting her new friend through; dragging Astrid and Hiccup through the park, albeit occasionally steered by Hiccup down quieter routes then the large busy pathways she wanted to take. The corporal himself seemed content to take in the scenery, occasionally raising his tablet to various signs and posters, marvelling at the world around him. A part of her wanted to know, to understand how he could be so at ease in the homeland of the enemy. Her unease and the questions that came with it blocked her from asking. Instead, a more pressing question made it past her lips.

"Why are they're just ignoring us?"

"Well, that's mostly thanks to you."

"Me?"

"Your braid." Hiccup tapped the back of his head with his tablet, as though she needed reminding. "It doesn't make you look more than seven or eight. Dragonoid hair growth can be measured at a rate of years. Girls don't cut theirs until it reaches the small of their back and even then it's just to make sure it doesn't get any longer than that. Ruusaan told me it's supposed to be a sign of fertil…that they've become an adult."

Astrid stopped, and gave him a very long, very hard stare. "And how exactly did  _that_  come up?

"I…that…"Hiccup went red, a deep crimson that Waif might have thought adorable. "I-it just came up, alright?"

Despite the knot in her chest, Astrid found herself smirking. "Yeah, I bet  _it_  did."

"Astrid! There are children present!"

"Ori'vod! Ori'vod!"

Juuniis' excited cries brought an end to the conversation…for the moment. She tugged at their arms urgently, tugging them with her surprising strength towards a crowd that had gathered near a tram station. Astrid pulled back warily, a part of her annoyed that her trainers scrapped uselessly against the paved path in the face of the young girl's pull.

"Can you tell her I don't like crowds or something?" Her voice was whispered and sounded almost pleading. She hated the way Hiccup looked surprised at her tone, "because I don't care how childish we look from afar, the idea of two humans to be up close to Dragonoids is not one I want to go through with right now."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, "Astrid-"

"I know what you said. And I can see you're a lot more comfortable here than you ever were  _anywhere_  in The Dome," she ignored the sting of her own words, and she forced herself to keep talking even as her comrade tried to object, "but I'm not. I'm  _terrified._  Holding hands is one thing, but I don't want to risk being found if I have too."

For a moment, she thought he would argue. She saw the challenge in his eyes, until the second he turned away, jerking Juuniis off the path mid-step into the tree line. He ignored the young Dragonoid's protests until they were hidden behind the grey trunks, Astrid anchoring them to the trees to stop their new friend from dragging them on.

"Astrid la chaab." he knelt down beside the child, speaking before she could complain. "Ne'naas emuurir tsad. Tengaanar teh olar?"

Juuniis winced, whatever Hiccup had said causing her to look in guiltily in Astrid's direction. She cocked her head to one side though, listening to the noise of the crowd not so far away. She smiled as she saw the crowd parted slightly, an excited hand pulling on Astrid's sleeve as she let go of Hiccup to point.

"Ori'vod! Ori'vod jorhaa'ir!"

The sergeant looked to her former subordinate for translation, but Hiccup's eyes were ahead to where Juuniis was pointing.

She followed his gaze, to a head that stood slightly taller than the rest due to the podium that had been set up there. He was male if his short blond hair and angular features were anything to go by. Tall and thin with ashen grey skin and sharp blue eyes. His suit was smart, at least by human standards; a dark blue blazer of some kind and lighter high collared shirt from what she could see; the panelled material both were made of giving it a slight shimmer in the pale light.

The scene seemed familiar, especially with the banners hung between poles behind the man's head and the picket signs dotting the crowd, brightly coloured words proclaiming something in the Dragonoid's triangular letters. A vague memory of her father itched at the back of her mind, the sounds of cheers and boos echoing around her head.

"It's a demonstration," she couldn't decide if she was amazed or horrified that Hiccup had voiced her thoughts exactly, "or a political rally like the ones your Dad held before elections."

"Well, which is it?" there was more anger in her words than she intended. Of all the human scenes to her now being played out by Dragonoids, this was the most…unnerving.

"Just give me second. I need to extend the audio pickup range of the translation matrix." His eyes darted from place to place as his fingers blurred across the screen. He smiled suddenly, as the microphones on the podium crackled to life. "Here we go!"

Astrid leaned over his shoulder as he held the tablet up, Dragonoid words morphing into English before her eyes as Juuniis' brother threw his arms wide and began to speak.

 **"People of** **The** _ **Rock**_ **, are you not tired? Have you not grown weary of sending yourselves and your children to battle from which you and they may not return? Are you not afraid for those of us not yet grown, who may soon be sent across the ocean when they come of age? I am tired, people of** _ **The Rock**_ **, and I…I am afraid. I am afraid for my sister** (Juuniis tugged on Astrid's arm, squeaking happily) **, who may grow to accept the fighting as an inevitable part of life. And I am afraid for us, The Assembled, who already** _ **know**_ **the fighting to be an inevitable part of life. The war with the Humans must** _ **stop,**_ **not through violence, but through words. I hope you understand, as I do, that a war to their extinction will benefit** _ **nobody**_ **…"**

Astrid felt numb as a cheer rose up, drowning out those who dared boo in disagreement. A Dragonoid was advocating peace. An end to hostilities without violence. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. She wanted to believe it was the low light tricking her eyes, or a mistranslation of the Dragonoid's words by the tablet. She looked to Hiccup and found no comfort in his stunned gaze or the slight smile that was twitching at the edge of his mouth. She looked to Juuniis' brother, hoping to see triumph or disgust, anything that would tell her that her world wasn't crumbling apart. But he stood tall, eyes almost pitying as he focused on those in the crowd that jeered.

 **"I know many among you see my words as wrong,"**  he continued,  **"that the actions of the humans so long ago have made them unredeemable in our eyes for the rest of time. I say, The Assembled are no strangers to travesty, and I have not forgotten what the Humans did to us, just as I have not forgotten what** _ **we**_ **have done to ourselves-"**

His words were drowned out, a loud, angry roar rising up from some of those that had been cheering moments before.

"What Humans did to  _them_?" Astrid heard herself ask. "What's he talking about?"

"I…I don't know. It's not a mistranslation…unless…" Hiccup frowned uneasily, looking up from prodding the tablet. "The damage…the wounds left open so they will always remember. Astrid…what if  _humans_  caused it?"

"Of course we caused it! We were fighting back, defending ourselves!"

"But what if it was the other way around?" He was sweating now, scared of his own thoughts "What if…what if  _we_  attacked first?"

"Don't say that!" her voice was a hiss, low and terrified. "You  _can't_  say that! They attacked us! No warning, no provocation! They hit us first! They crushed Washington under their spacecraft for crying out loud!"

"You're right they did," he turned to her now, face grim, "but Astrid, we've only assumed the Dragonoids attacked first because America kept everyone else in the dark. The only thing we ever knew about the Dragonoids was that they wanted to stay in orbit. What if the States provoked the landing somehow? I'm not saying it was intentional. It could have been an accident, or someone mistranslated the wrong word, or maybe even someone was too paranoid and too high up the change of command and pressed the wrong button at the wrong time. But what if  _we_  threw the first punch? What if this entire war…two and a half centuries and billions of deaths…what if it was all our own fault?"

Astrid had no answer. Her chest was too tight, as though she had forgotten how to breathe. She just stared at Hiccup, waiting,  _begging_  for him to tell her his own words were absurd. But he didn't. Neither of them said a word nor moved a muscle until Juuniis' brother spoke again.

 **"Have you forgotten our own actions?"** he bellowed at the crowd.  **"Is this the example of how The Assembled forgive that we give to our children? That we can forgive our own kind for our own crimes, no matter how bloody, but we can not do the same for others? Humanity has paid the price for its mistake, just as we paid the price for ours. We are tired!** _ **Humanity**_ **is tired!"**

"Morta'les la haresh!"

A new voice, low and loud, rang out across the park, a heavy thrumming reverberating through the ground and rattling Astrid's ribs. The thrum became a scream, blinding red light filling the area as a great wind rushed through the parkland. A hand went up to her eyes on instinct, the other subconsciously pulling Juuniis close as the terrified Dragonoid girl buried her head in the human's side. She felt something come around her shoulders, a warm hand quickly forcing her behind the tree. She tried to break free at first, until she realised it was Hiccup who was hiding her. Through the light, she saw his grim face, his hand painfully tight on her shoulder as he pressed them all against the bark. A part of her wanted to see what he saw. The rest was disgusted with herself for flushing scarlet just because his mouth was too close and his body was pressed up against hers, keeping them hidden behind the tree. She looked away to distract herself, craning her neck to try and see what had caused Hiccup to make sure they were well hidden.

While the people were silent, the park itself was filled with the noise of Dragonoid engines, a pair of Gronckles hovering above the tram station, searchlights mounted to their sides bathing the demonstration in the strange red light. Juuniis' brother glared up at them with fists clenched and teeth bared. He watched, as they all did, as a platform rose above the station, and when Astrid saw what they saw, she saw all of humanity's hope for survival crumble in the face of one, single, massive figure.

He towered over all, a Dragonoid easily twelve feet or more, broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, barely constrained within a uniform of deep purple and hemmed in blood red, hands and feet up to the knees encased in black armoured gauntlets and boots, a chest plate of greyish blue melding into a matching cloak that billowed out behind him in the downdraft of the Gronckles' wings. From beneath a pointed fringe of black and framed by ridges of cragged bone on either side, eyes the colour of ice stared down at the gathered crowd out of a wide bone pale head, pitted and scarred by countless battles, a grin of long sharp teeth seeming to split this face near ear to ear. There was malice in those eyes, Astrid could see clear as day, a glee at the power he knew he had in the palm of his hand.

"What…is  _that_?" she heard herself ask, unable to look away.

"If I had to guess?" Hiccup swallowed thickly, and Astrid felt his heart beat painfully fast against her chest. "Not someone we should mess with."

Astrid nodded, all thoughts of intel for Stoic now forgotten thoughts at the back of her mind. She watched as the platform descended into the park, the giant Dragonoid holding his arms wide to the people before him as it landed beside the podium. His grin only grew as the crowd saluted him as one; heels clacking together, one of their hands coming across their chests to close into a fist over their hearts. It took only a look from the giant for Juuniis' brother to reluctantly follow the people he was trying to lead.

"Ke'sush aht gar, te Al'verde!" he shouted over the thrum of Dragonoid engines.

"An Ke'sush, Al'verde Zearaan!" the crowd roared in response, all falling to one knee before the great being before them.

"Al'verde…High Superior." she watched Hiccup's face grow pale as the words appeared on the tablet. "The leader of the Dragonoids, High Superior Zearaan…" he laughed, to her surprise. "Oh Dad, you've got no idea…"

Zearaan stepped forward to the vacated podium, the crowds now silent with heads bowed. When he spoke, he didn't need the microphone. Even over the screams of the Gronckles above him, the High Superior's voice carried clear across the park.

" **Yes my friends,"** the tablet translated as the giant spread his arms wide,  **"Humanity is exhausted! It is low on troops, low on ships, weapons, and even ammunition. Why then, I ask you, should we waste our time with talk when victory over the enemy is assured?**   **Why should we, The Assembled, even consider such an idea with a race of killers, the murderers of our ancestors? Have you all forgotten the kindness we gave them? Have you forgotten the 'kindness' they gave in return?"**

As though responding to his voice, the dark pools within the light of the central pillar morphed and shifted, pictures forming in black and white on its surface. Astrid saw the Earth, hanging in one corner, the sun a bright spot in the far distance. The _Rock_  was shown in orbit, a pale disk with her nose away from the camera, almost eclipsing the light from the star. A halo of sunlight surrounded the ship, strangely growing brighter with every passing moment.

 **"You know what this is. The phenomenon that trapped us on this world,"** Zearaan spat the words with venom.  **"We saw it when the humans did not: A solar storm strong enough to bring the people of Earth to their knees. My predecessor took pity on them; they were weak and primitive, barely able to send their own kind to their moon's surface. We moved** **The** _ **Rock of The Assembled**_ **, extended our protection to the world below. We extended it…too much."**

The halo engulfed  _The Rock_ , the light shining out around the shadowed hull until everything was filled with blinding white. Before the camera fizzled into static, Astrid saw fiery plumes erupt out of the great ship's side, the vessel veering off from an unseen impact before the image vanished.

**"We protected them, at the cost of many lives and great damage to our home. Our engines failed us, we needed to land, to refuel and repair. We begged the humans for sanctuary on their world. And how did they respond?"**

The scene shifted, security footage of a launch site, a volley of missiles streaking up from hidden bunkers into a darkened sky. The camera panned with the launch, to the fireball that was The _Rock of The Assembled_  crashing across the sky high above and far away. The missiles were joined by others, streaks of light all converging on  _The Rock_  and crashing into her sides. Astrid watched with a wave of dread as the giant vessel slowly veered downward onto a steeper course.

**"They paid the price for their malice."**

Another scene; amateur footage from a handheld camera, sailors on a yacht, sailing under a large suspension bridge, panicked faces caught in the edge of frame as the camera's owner tried to keep a steady hand on the sight before him or her. Far off,  _The Rock of the Assembled_  still dwarfed all around it as it fell from the sky. The ground fractured as the massive vessel slammed into the Earth, a shockwave tearing through everything its path sending clouds of dirt and debris in all directions. The camera fell to the deck as great waves crashed into the yacht, just in time to see the bridge fall into the bay, a large black cloud mushrooming high into the sky before the water swamped the ship and the image fizzled into static.

 **"Even after the fall, we tried for peace. The humans would not listen to our pleas,"** Zearaan turned his head from the images as scenes of war and destruction flashed across the pillar's surface. Tanks and Dragonoids and soldiers fighting, destroying and killing.  **"Eventually, we stopped trying to make them see reason. We realised too late what we, in our souls, have always had known: There is no talk with savage primitives."**  The battles seemed to turn to the Dragonoids' favour. Cities fell as the metal monsters soared through the skies, people running screaming from the fire that fell from above.  **"We have driven them back, forced them to hide as we hunt them like the animals that they are."**  Zearaan looked down on his subjects, framed by the pictures of horror that continued to flash behind him. The assembled Dragonoids had remained silent throughout, neither a cheer nor boo between them, heads still bowed, hands closed into fists over their hearts.  **"And yet they still consider themselves superior to us, even when backed them into a corner."**

A new figure appeared, dominating the pillar to the point it put almost the entire park in near darkness. A human, tall and slim shouldered and dressed in a simple pinstriped suit. A pale, aged face stared out from under a fringe of thinning hair, a face that made Astrid's heart stop cold even before he spoke.

 _"I am Arthur Hofferson, leader of the free humans of The Dome,"_ her father's voice rang out clear across the silent park,  _"and I send this proclamation to the people of Washington Crater, Tsad Droten, the ones we call Dragonoids. For over two hundred and forty of our years, we have fought. You have wiped out entire nations, and we, the people of The Dome, have battled you to a standstill. I tell you this now; soon, I will put an end to this conflict."_

His voice was so cold, a tone that didn't quite match his calm expression. Astrid remembered this speech; recorded in front of a crowd of thousands the week before  _Paladin_ had left The Dome and met her fiery demise. She had been sitting on the balcony behind him, Hiccup fidgeting nervously beside her. Had his words really been said so cruelly, edged with steel and malice?

_"You will fall."_

The words came from her father's mouth, and his daughter's blood turned to ice.

 _"You will fall and we shall rise,"_  the voice continued, sounding less and less like her father's words with every second.  _"You have polluted our most cherished planet for your own greed. Tomorrow, I will come to you with a message, but not composed of words. We have wasted too much time with words. We need action now. The Dragonoids must be taught a strong lesson for their evil corruption. This is only the beginning of our war. We have been putting more and more into our military, making it stronger than ever before."_

"He didn't say that!" She turned to Hiccup, desperation in her eyes "You were there Alex! He didn't say that!"

"Of course he didn't." his voice was grim, his hand somehow getting tighter on her shoulder as he glared at the grinning High Superior up above. "But there were people who wished he had, remember? You change some words, alter the tone, and a message of peace becomes a declaration of war." he turned to her with a grim smile. "Isn't technology great?"

Her breath caught in her throat, saw her eyes widen and her mouth hang open in silent horror reflected in brown orbs. Memories flooded her mind, drowning out the rest of Arthur Hofferson's distorted words. She wanted to deny the images, of a blonde child screaming at her once best friend and the lies he was trying to tell her. Of ridiculous stories of Dragonoid innocence and the sins of the few that craved war. She saw the hurt in his youthful face of the past, and regret in the same older face that stared down at her now. She looked away, buried her face in his chest to try and blot out the memories with feeble excuses and reasons that had held so strong until now. The Dragonoids were  _monsters._  They had wiped entire nations from the face of the Earth. They had killed her father, a man of peace, in cold blood.

And yet…

 _"It was all a conspiracy,"_ she had said quietly, in the shooting gallery on Christmas Eve.  _"Just a small group of people that opposed my Dad's ideals."_

She didn't want it to be true. She wanted to call it lies, fabrications created by the High Superior to fool his citizens.

And yet…

_"It's easier to hate Dragonoids then believe your theories and things you say you've 'heard', even if that means I have to hate you in the process."_

**"This is the face of our enemy,"** Zearaan stood shadowed by the frozen face of her father above.  **"One we have vanquished, but still one of many. Their words are loud, but they have no bite. The Humans are a people exhausted, and we have proven time and again there is no way they can pose a threat to The Assembled. They cannot create soldiers overnight, and they are desperately scrabbling for a victory they can never obtain. I therefore appeal to you all,"** he spread his arms wide with a sharp-toothed grin,  **"to each and every one of you. Humanity is exhausted! Now is not the time for us to kneel before them. It is time for us to rise! Now, more than ever, is our chance to defeat the last bastions of Human resistance once and for all!"**

Then, the Dragonoids roared. As one they cheered their leader, chanting his name and the words "An Ke'sush!" again and again.

Astrid buried her face deeper into Alex's chest, trying to blot out the terrible noise that threatened to consume her. She took small comfort in his arms as they encircled her tight, as the Dragonoid continued to chant and Juuniis sobbed with confused terror into her side.

* * *

It took time to calm Juuniis down, and even longer to convince the scared little girl to go back to her brother. His urgent calls as the crowd eventually dispersed eventually sent her running to his arms with tears and fearful words, Alex and Astrid slipping off unseen back to the Night Fury before she could find them again.

They walked in silence, keeping to shadows for all the good it did on a ship of aliens that could see in the dark. Even as they climbed back through the scar and stumbled through the darkness to where the Dragonoid waited, not a word was said. Astrid just let Alex lead her, a warm hand guiding her through the dark and helping her into the cramped cockpit. There had been a time, she was certain, when the roles had been reversed; memories of sneaking away to beyond The Dome's wall to watch the stars go by. How long had it been since they had done that? Astrid was surprised at the pang of panic that came with the realisation she couldn't remember.

Alex slumped into the forward seat once he was sure she was secure. The Night Fury hummed to life around him as his fingers danced across the consoles and he muttered the start-up sequence under his breath.

Astrid kept quiet, even as the Fury pulled out of the scar in the  _Rock's_  side and headed out towards the open ocean. Her mind was a mess, her father's forged words echoing around her head again and again. They hadn't been his words, but they had been the ones that had reached the Dragonoids. They had been the words that had killed him, sent by people who wanted nothing but eternal war until one side annihilated the other.

And Alex…Alex had been right. Of course he had, she'd always known that. It was just…

_"It's easier to hate Dragonoids then believe your theories and things you say you've 'heard', even if that means I have to hate you in the process."_

It all seemed so selfish now. An easy way out; believe the lies, that a people already an enemy had taken her father, or the painful truth, as told by the only friend who had never lied to her. The choice had been obvious to a broken-hearted young girl. To a teen hardened by hate and bitterness, now left broken by the truth laid bare, it just left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Strap in."

Astrid looked up from her misery. "What?"

"We've got company." Alex reached for his tablet as the radio beeped above his head. "Nadders at eight and four o'clock low coming in fast. Just let me do the talking."

"Didn't you cloak before we left?"

"Of course I did," he gave her an angry glance. "Someone must have looked out a window or something. Now be quiet. This is going to be tricky."

Astrid didn't reply, her eyes glued to her side screens, watching as the Nadders closed in from both sides. Had the situation been ordinary, she would have already been running to Outpost 83RK, maybe to pick up a spare rifle on her way to the fire truck to prepare for service, barking orders to the rest of Nu Squad. But here, in the rear seat of a Dragonoid she barely understood, the situation was anything but ordinarily.

 _"Ke'sush Beskar'ad Ca'furor T'ad Resol Ehn Ta'raysh."_ the speakers crackled with a voice, curt and professional. _"Meg la gar'ra aka?"_

Alex took a deep breath, his hand shaking above the communication console before he flipped a switch. "Anaykebise la chur ke'gyce olar, aka nu'amyc."

_"Meg banar?"_

The corporal winced, one hand rapidly flicking through the translation matrix in his lap. "Uh…Mhi ganar ika gotab parjai, Al…uh…anaykebise la an staabi jii. Meg copaani jate. Meg copaani am jate olar jii, vor entye. Me'vaar copaani gar?"

An unhealthy pause followed. Astrid watched the Nadders move closer.

 _"Ibic tabalhar mav nari gar norac aht te_ Ruus _."_

"Uh, uh…nayc, nayc!" Alex was now frantic, his fingers a blur as he sifted through words Astrid didn't understand. "Mhi su ganar parjai olar jii. Dinuir mhi kisol jiila aht mircir daab. Ori parjai, ori burk'yc."

 _"Tion la ibic?"_ the voice grew impatient. " _Meg la gar'ra gai bal verda?"_

"Uhh…uh…Shit!"

The Night Fury lurched violently, the Nadders blurring from side screens to forward as targeting reticules blinked red over the first of the blue machines.

"Alex, what are you-"

_"Weapons control: Command Seat Enabled."_

The Night Fury shuddered as it unleashed its first volley, vulcan cannons belching energy rounds as the Dragonoids split apart to avoid its fire.

_"Lenedat la aru'ela! Jurkad! Jurkad! Linibar burc'ya!"_

Alex shut the radio off as the first pulse blasts rattled the fuselage. "Boring conversation anyway." He pulled the Night Fury round, baring his teeth as the Nadder seemed to dance around the reticules. "Dammit! How did Ruusaan make this look so easy!?"

"What are you doing!? Are you insane!?" Astrid gripped the armrests tight as the Fury banked hard, a volley of pulse fire from the second Nadder missing by inches. "Alex, you can't fly this thing! You can barely hold your own in a Viking for crying out loud!"

"I beat  _you_  didn't I?"

"That-…I mean…That's not the point! You can't just-"

"Incoming!"

Bright blue light blinded her screens, a beam of energy sweeping past the Night Fury as Alex dropped the Dragonoid into a steep dive to avoid it. Astrid felt her stomach lurch as he pulled up, a spray of water splashing out from a near miss with the ocean's surface.

"Reinforcements." Alex growled, eying the radar. "Gronckles, a few more Nadders and a…"

A scream cut him off, that faint high powered scream that gradually rose above to deafening levels as a smudge of black soared across the stars.

Astrid's blood ran cold. "Night Fury…"

A rain of plasma mortar fire broke through her fear, the Gronckles attack pluming water high into the around as Alex ducked and weaved between the explosions.

"I'll give you this, I don't think we can win," Alex grimaced as plasma fire hit a little too close to home. "We need to punch a hole through their defences so we can head back into orbit."

"What about those cannons you've got mounted on the back? Surely they'd pack enough punch to-"

"Can't do that. Too powerful."

Astrid stared at the back of his head. "Now isn't the time to hold back, Alex!"

"I just need to change!"

Blue light engulfed the forward chair as Astrid felt the Night Fury shift around her into its Humanoid mode, shield brought to bear and rifle in hand. A timer glowed red in the corner of her main screen as Alex unleashed his first volley of bright green light, curved alien numbers rapidly shifting from one to the next, although what they were counting and why they had appeared, Astrid didn't know.

Then the battle caught her eye. Alex had a Gronckle in his sights, the workhorse of the Dragonoids lobbing great balls of plasma as the Night Fury rushed towards it, rifle blazing. One shot sliced through the plasma mortar, the weapon reduced to slag as another shot pierced a wing, sending the ruined mech pinwheeling down to the ocean as the pilot ejected into the night.

"You missed!?" she stared at the back of his head in disbelief. "How could you miss!? He was three feet in front of you! Did you do that on purpose?"

"We don't need to kill anyone to escape-"

"The hell we don't! Have you told the people shooting us?!" she leapt down to his side, pulling him around by the shoulder to glare into his eyes. "Is this some kind of game to you?! You are a soldier! Take out the enemy as soon as you can! If you let them go now, they  _will_ come back later to kill again."

"Of  _course_ it's not a game!" Alex glared at her, wrenching her hand off him in an unnervingly tight grip, "but a Dragonoid's life is still just as valuable as a Human's. I can't just look at these machines and not remember there's a living being inside! Could you?"

Alarm bells screamed before she could find an answer, Alex pulling away from her as the enemy Night Fury bore down on them, sword raised. Astrid felt a thud rumble through the Dragonoid as Alex magnetically holstered the rifle to pull a sword of his own from his Night Fury's back. Sparks flew as blades clashed, the other Dragonoids hovering around, as though unsure what to do.

 _"Ke'sush aru'ela lenedat."_  the radio crackled as the enemy Fury glared into the cameras.  _"Motir daab bal yaimpar aht bal_ Ruus _."_

Alex grimaced as he pulled a trigger. "I wish it was that simple."

The vulcan cannons belched energy rounds, slicing through the enemy Fury's head, the Dragonoid flinching back as though scalded. It was enough for Alex to push forward, his blade slicing through metal, cleaving through the enemy's legs and wings. Astrid was thrown back into her chair as their Fury lurched forward and the enemy spiralled down towards the sea, the cockpit bathed in red light as the countdown stopped on four red squares. As if on cue, she saw her Corporal clutch his head with a painful moan, one hand moving to switches and buttons as the other clutched at his head.

"Times up. Strap in, we're getting out of here."

Astrid didn't have time to ask how. Their Night Fury groaned around her as its form shifted, then roared as its engines sent it skyward, pinning her to her seat. She scrunched her eyes shut, ignored her shaking hands and the sweat that made the armrest slippery under her grip. The Night Fury rattled and groaned. She swore she heard energy fire crash into its armour…

Then, just as before, the world was suddenly silent.

She didn't open her eyes, just let her body float slightly up against the straps as the Night Fury took a stable orbit over the Earth.

" _Could_ you?"

She opened her eyes, found Alex watching her over his shoulder. She knew what he was asking, she wanted to say yes. She wanted to tell him that they were soldiers, on both sides. Trained to kill until one nation's flag rose over the ashes of the other. It didn't matter who the enemy was, only that they  _were_  the enemy…

_"Juuniis, Hallex bal Hastrid. Burc'ya an!"_

She looked away, to the stars that drifted past her screens, and saw Juuniis' smiling face among a trillion points of light. Even though she didn't say a word for the rest of the flight, she knew by Alex's grim smile as he turned back that he had his answer.

* * *

_ROCK OF THE ASSEMBLED, FIRST LEVEL MILITARY COMMAND, OFFICE OF THE HIGH SUPERIOR_

Humans. Humans on the  _Ruus_.

The cameras had seen their every movement, watched their appearance from the scar, the meeting of Jaedaar's sister and their faces as they had seen everything unfold on the Tier Seventeen parkland. No one but a two-cycle old child had noticed their presence, and why would they? No Human had ever set foot on the vessel, even before The Fall and the war that followed it. Most weren't even alive the final time Tsad Droten had taken prisoners, and no one would expect any soldiers amongst the civilians to compare two quiet children, not even trying to hide, to the targets in their sights on the battlefield, fleeing Tsad Droten Beskar'ads.

But Zearaan knew. He saw what the rest of his race had forgotten; the eyes, the teeth, the  _ears_. The face of the enemy. That they had reached the  _Ruus beh Tsad Droten_ without detection was…concerning. The craft in which they'd made their escape? Unsettling, to put it mildly.

There was no doubt in Zearaan's mind that the Ca'furor that had left the  _Ruus_  without authorisation had managed to escape and now refused to heed the recall signal had been the method the Human's had used to escape. The after-action reports confirmed it. The Beskar'ad's identification code was registered to a Ca'furor confirmed Missing, Presumed Destroyed during the last attack on the settlement Humans referred to as The Dome. Had the Humans somehow downed the Beskar'ad, stopped its' Mirdala from going berserk. The thought that Humans could reclaim the skies was troubling enough, but if they could do so with Tsad Droten machines…

How much had they learned? Had they listened?

 **"High Superior."**  He killed the feeds, the screens fading around his desk to reveal the simpering aide bowed low behind them.  **"Everything is prepared."**

Zearaan smiled, rising from his chair and striding out of his office to the balcony. At the  _Ruus'_  First Level, where the military made its' home, the courtyards and parade grounds below had been filled with soldiers of his command. Far below, every citizen of every level stopped what they were doing to watch his face as it shone from the central pillar. The thousands below stood to attention as one as he stood up to the podium, and the countless faces below them didn't even whisper a word, as though the entire vessel was holding its breath for his voice.

As it should be.

 **"My friends,"**  he held his arms wide, his voice echoing in the streets,  **"the end is near. An end to conflict, an end to bloodshed…and** _ **end**_ **to Humanity. For can we not have peace as long as the Humans crave war?"**  He let the words hang in the air, saw the grins of his most loyal standing close by.  **"Events today have opened my eyes. Too many of us are tired of war, and have become desperate to end it by any means. They delude themselves into thinking conflict can end with both sides remaining. But I know, as do many of you know, that this can only end one of two ways. Either we finish them, or they finish us!"**  A murmur from below, worries and agreement.  **"And so, today, we launch the final push for freedom: Aka Ge'tal Kyr'am."**  The murmur became a hum, voices talking over one another, arguing, agreeing **"With it's completion, the spirit of Humanity will be broken, and this I promise you: The Earth will belong to Tsad Droten, and we shall rise again to reform our great civilisation! Humanity will burn, Tsad Droten will rise and NEVER AGAIN SHALL OUR PEOPLE BE DENIED!"**

The hum became a roar. Shouts from below, the loyal began cheering his name and chanting his praise "An Ke'sush! An Ke'sush! An Ke'sush!"

And Zearaan drank it in, took strength from the people, even as their cheers drowned the sound of engines long thought dead roaring to life and pushing the  _Ruus beh Tsad Droten_ back into the skies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Mesh'la!"  
> (Pretty!)  
> Note: Usually means beautiful, but Juuniis is three and pretty sounds more childish.
> 
> "Mesh'la! Nayc! Nayc slanar! Al mesh'la!"  
> (Pretty! No! No go! But pretty!)
> 
> "Tion'jor nayc slanar?"  
> (Why no go?)
> 
> Suum olar, kadal arasuumir. Bic la payt tenn bid mhi mav ratiin partaylir.  
> (Beyond here, A wound remains. It is left open so we will always remember.)
> 
> "Mhi partaylir. Nayc digur. Al enteyor takisit."  
> (We remember. No forget. But must forgive.)
> 
> "Mesh'la jorhaa'ir nuh'la."  
> (Pretty talk funny.)
> 
> "Tion'jo mesh'la jorhaa'ir nuh'la?"  
> (Why pretty talk funny?)
> 
> "Kaysh mirsh la solus."  
> (She's an idiot. Lit: Her brain cell is lonely.)  
> Note: The proper Mando'a for the above, Kaysh mirsh solus, is my favourite part of the Mando'a dictionary I take the Dragonoid language from. I just gave a minor literal translation of it so it fit in with the rest of the Dragonoid dialogue. I've done the same for my second favourite, marked by the literal translation below.
> 
> "Juuniis, Hallex bal Hastrid. Burc'ya an!"  
> (Juuniis, Alex and Astrid. Friends all!)
> 
> "Dalyc copaanir aht suvarir. Tion'jor sirbur takisit?"  
> (She wants to understand. Why say forgive?)
> 
> "Ori'vod sirbur mirdir aabir'naas kar'taylir. Ashi vaabir'naas emuurir kaysh jorhaa'ir meyg. Ori'vod jorhaa'ir nay solet."  
> (Big brother says they didn't know. Others don't like him saying that. Big Brother talks too much.)
> 
> "Ori'vod liser ba'jurir! Ba'jurir mesh'la Hastrid! Ori'vod liser ba'jurir! Ori'vod liser ba'jurir!"  
> (Big Brother can teach! Teach pretty Astrid! Big brother can teach! Big Brother can teach!"
> 
> "Gev!"  
> (Stop!)
> 
> "Jii, cin vhetin. Meg liser gar'ra ori'vod vaabir?  
> (Now, Fresh start. What can your brother do?)
> 
> "Ori'vod liser ba'jurir. Ba'jurir mesh'la Hastrade. Vaabir'naas sushir nay muun. Kaysh mirsh kyramud."  
> (Brother can teach. Teach pretty Astrid. Don't listen too hard. He'll bore you senseless. (Lit: He's a brain assassin.))
> 
> "Ori'vod! ! Ori'vod!"  
> (Brother! Brother!)
> 
> "Astrid la chaab. Ne'naas emuurir tsad. Tengaanar teh olar?"  
> (Astrid is scared. Doesn't like crowds. Show from here?)
> 
> "Ori'vod! Ori'vod jorhaa'ir!"  
> (Brother! Brother speak!)
> 
> "Morta'les la haresh!"  
> (Humanity is exhausted!)
> 
> "Ke'sush aht gar, te Al'verde!"  
> (Hail to you, the High Superior!)
> 
> "An Ke'sush, Al'verde Zearaan!  
> (All hail, High Superior Zearaan!)
> 
> "Ke'sush Beskar'ad Ca'furor T'ad Resol Ehn Ta'raysh. Meg la gar'ra aka?"  
> (Attention Mecha Unit Night Fury Two Six Three Ten. What is your situation?)  
> Note: Aka is another duel word, meaning Situation, operation or mission
> 
> "Anaykebise la chur ke'gyce olar, aka nu'amyc."  
> (Everything is under control here, situation normal.)
> 
> "Meg banar?"  
> (What happened?)
> 
> "Uh…Mhi ganar ika gotab parjai, Al…uh…anaykebise la an staabi jii. Meg copaani jate. Meg copaani am jate olar jii, vor entye. Me'vaar copaani gar?"  
> (Uh…We had a small engine problem, but…uh…everything is all right now. We are fine. We are all fine here now, thank you. How are you?)
> 
> "Ibic tabalhar mav nari gar norac aht te Ruus."  
> (This patrol will move you back to The Rock.)
> 
> "Uh, uh…nayc, nayc. Mhi su ganar parjai olar jii. Dinuir mhi kisol jiila aht mircir daab. Ori parjai, ori burk'yc."  
> (Uh, uh…negative, negative. We still have problems here now. Give us a few moments to lock down. Big problem, very dangerous.)
> 
> "Tion la ibic? Meg la gar'ra gai bal verda?"  
> (Who is this? What is your name and rank?)
> 
> "Lenedat la aru'ela! Jurkad! Jurkad! Linibar burc'ya!"  
> (Contact is hostile! Attack! Attack! Need reinforcements!)
> 
> "Ke'sush aru'ela lenedat. Motir daab bal yaimpar aht bal Ruus."  
> (Attention hostile contact. Stand down and return to the Rock.)
> 
> Beskar'ad  
> (Mecha, or what Tsad Droten call thier Dragonoid mechas
> 
> Aka Ge'tal Kyr'am  
> (Operation Red Death)
> 
> Today's Author's Notes would have gone over my end note character limit. Please go to https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6488447/10/Dragonoid and scroll down to the bottom if you would like to read them.
> 
> Next week is a short (3,00 words) but notable chapter, tying some ends up as we move towards the finale.
> 
> See you then!


	11. Section 010: And The Walls Fell

**SECTION 010**

**AND THE WALLS FELL**

_DATE: JANUARY 8, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1548 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, SIX KLICKS SOUTHEAST OF DOME TERRITORY_

Astrid didn't like what she was seeing.

The flight had been silent. Even the A.I. seemed to think better of saying anything until they'd touched down in the crater, right back where this whole mess had started. Astrid didn't like the silence, didn't like how Alex left the cockpit without a backward glance. She didn't like the knot in her chest or the lump in her throat. She didn't like that it was Alex of all people who was ignoring her, didn't think it was fair, then realised that almost ten years of her doing the same made it absolutely fair, no question about it.

But it was what she was seeing now that she didn't like the most.

Ruusaan was hugging Alex.

But it was more than that. Every so often she'd cradle his face, or hold him out at arm's length as eyes and hands roamed worriedly over his body, only to crush him back to her chest, all the while letting a flood of words pour from her mouth too quickly for even the translation matrix to understand. Alex didn't stop her. He just let it happen, an awkward smile plastered across his face, eyes meeting Astrid's every so often then darting away just as quickly.

It made her feel ill, angry and yet sad at the same time. She knew why, too. That made her feel worse.

"R-Ruusaan…" Alex finally tried to prise the Dragonoid off him, holding her arms even as her hands clenched at his shoulders. "I'm alright, really. I'm good, okay?

"Naht gud!" Ruusaan shook her head violently. "Ni ja'hail gar ba'slanar. Ni partaylir te kyr'yc ca'nara mirdir…" She took his head in her hands, held his face as close to her eyes she could. "Ni chaabar par gar, Hallex…"

"I know. I'm sorry. Ni ceta." He smiled at her, eyes soft, and Astrid stomach clenched at the thought that he used to save those smiles for her. "But I  _am_  okay, Ni piryc, really."

The Dragonoid smiled; no teeth, almost Human-like. She kissed his forehead, then hugged him tight to her chest, burying her face in his hair. It made Astrid's throat burn and her eyes itch.

But what right did she have to say anything about it? Alex hadn't pushed  _her_ away, hadn't shouted and screamed at  _her_  and then looked away when Snotlout and the twins had decided to make her a target for their 'banter'. What right did she have to feel…

Ruusaan caught her gaze, surprise in her alien eyes. Of course she was surprised, Astrid wasn't even supposed to be here. Hadn't she been running for The Dome to get back up? To find soldiers and Vikings to bring an alien threat in for who knows what they had planned? The Dragonoid moved past Alex, walking towards Astrid, crossing the distance with frightening speed…before dropping to her knees and pulling the soldier into her embrace.

For a moment, everything was still. Astrid stood frozen in place, eyes wide and heart beating fast. She didn't struggle, push away or even scream. She just stood there; her head against the Dragonoid's shoulder, feeling dark hair tickle her nose and the warmth of her body through her clothes. What was happening right now? Why was the monster that had tried to kill her before now hugging her so gently and yet so tight?

"Hy em…sowry." the words were a whisper, yet they made Astrid's heart stop. "Hy em sowry fer hurtink hyu. Fer scarink hyu. Und…it naht much, but hy em sowry…fer everitink helse."

…

No. No, that wasn't right. An apology? Why? Why now?

"You don't get to say sorry," she felt Ruusaan freeze as she pushed her back…just far enough for her to see Astrid's sheepish smile, "because  _you_ have nothing to apologise for. I'm not saying I think your people are blameless, but…I can't say I think that Humans are blameless either. And…"

She stopped as Alex approached, typing furiously on his tablet. Without a word he stopped behind Ruusaan, holding the computer up for her to see. She read the words once, then smiled as she turned back to face the Dragonoid.

Alexander McKrillen. Always coming through for her, even when he was rightly mad.

"Ashi…copaani ori'dush…bat bintar eso. Al gar…ganar'nass ori'dushyc…Ni, mirdir…Ni ganar'nass ori'dushyc gar." Her eyes widened, and Astrid hoped it was because she was making sense. "Ogir la…naasad aht eparavur linibar-"

And then she was being hugged again, followed by the sound of sniffles over her shoulder and the feeling of a smile against her neck. She looked to Alex in a panic, only to find him smiling that smile of his, with eyes soft. That smile he reserved for her, now being smiled at her again.

"She gets like this, don't worry about it. She just doesn't want you to see her cry-oomph!"

Astrid grabbed his hand, pulled him in and held him close, feeling Ruusaan move her arm to bring him into their embrace. She buried her face in his chest as her eyes stung and throat burned, tears finally rolling and a smile of her own gracing her face as she felt his arms come around her waist and his chin rest against her hair.

She didn't want him to see her cry either.

* * *

_TIME: 1803 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, NEW HYDE PARK_

The past few hours had been…awkward. It started when Astrid awkwardly excused herself to go refill the bike's tires, leaving me to awkwardly explain to Ruusaan everything that had happened over at the  _Rock of the Assembled_. She'd listened intently, to be sure, but the only thing she seemed concerned about was that the recall signal had been sent in the first place.

 **"The High Superior has plans,"** The translation matrix had said she'd said.  **"He needs as many soldiers as he can get. He will be planning something big, but I don't know what. You should be ready. You should** _ **all**_ **be ready."**

Wonderful. More things to worry about. Things that made me unusually quiet, if the uneasy look Astrid gave me was anything to go by. We rode back in silence, too caught up in our own thoughts I guess. Astrid even let me drive without argument, she was that out of it. The kind of things we'd seen tonight…I guess it would give anyone a lot to think about.

We got back to Outpost 83RK without incident and passed through into The Dome just as the gates were being locked up for the night. We walked in the same awkward silence, retracing a route through the streets we hadn't taken together since we were kids. I was so lost in the endless quiet, I didn't even say goodbye as we reached the crossing where we'd normally part ways. I would have walked on too, without a backward glance, if Astrid hadn't caught the sleeve of my jacket.

"We need to talk."

And now, here I was; sitting on a bench on one of New Hyde Park's less walked paths, watching my sergeant pace up and down in front of me.

Up and down, back and forth. Sometimes she's stop, mouth open and halfway to starting a sentence. Then she'd start pacing again. After what felt like an eternity, she finally squared her shoulders to me.

"We need to tell your Dad."

Well… _that_  was anticlimactic. "Tell him what? I've done a lot recently."

"Everything. Ruusaan, the Night Fury, everything we saw on the  _Rock_ -"

"And how do think that's going to play out?" She flinched back, a sign she might listen? "Do you honestly think General Gregorio 'Stoic' McKrillen, fearless leader of The Dome's Military Police and major thorn in High Superior Zearaan's colossal backside, is going to listen to anything two baseline soldiers have to say, even if it's about the one place we've been trying to reach for the past two hundred fifty years? Even if he does listen, what do you think he's going to do? Throw down his weapons and try to negotiate peace, or capture and torture Ruusaan and throw everything he has under his command towards Washington Crater? A hundred people surveyed, number one answer's still on the board. Survey says-"

"I get it!" She scowled, arms folded as she looked away, but even in the dim light, I managed to catch a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I get it."

I smiled slightly as I stood up, seeing a glimpse of a young girl in pigtails I'd grown up with through the cracks in her armour. "We do have to tell him, I'll give you that. We just…have to figure out a way to get the information out without him sending every soldier, Viking and mobile fortress across the Atlantic. And we've got to stop the fighting, Astrid. You saw there are Dragonoids who want peace as much…as much as your Dad did." Shoulders slumped, a weary blue eye watching me from under blonde bangs. "We have to think this through, Astrid. Carefully. Rushing is only going to get people, Human  _and_  Dragonoid, killed."

"I know, I know!" She knocked away my hand before I could rest it on her shoulder, her own fingers running over her blonde locks in frustration. "We've just discovered a way into Washington Crater, the thing every Human's been after since the old nations fell. This morning, I'd of called you a traitor for keeping it a secret. To do what? Protect Ruusaan? Juuniis? The Dragonoids? Seriously?" She sighed so heavily, like I'd put the weight of The Dome on her shoulders. "Now though, all I want to do is ask…" she looked me in the eyes, and I almost stepped back under her look of determination. "What do we do, sir?"

I blinked in surprise. "Sir?"

"You're here, aren't you?" She stepped up to me, pressed something into my hand with a smirk. "You're not going to worm your way out of that commission if you stick around."

I looked down, and recognised the seal of the Military Police and the overly formal wording between the folds of my officer's commission. Oh yeah, I still had to take down a Dragonoid in front of the entire population of The Dome, didn't I?  _That_ was going to be fun.

Despite it all, I found myself smiling. "I still don't want this you know."

"But you earned it."

"Not the way you would've-"

Her hands closed around mine, a light warm touch closing my fingers around the folded paper, "But you  _earned_  it, Alex."

Then she smiled at me, and for a sudden moment I was seven again; willing to follow her anywhere and believe anything she said. Then I remembered who was standing before me. Not Astrid; my childhood friend, but Sergeant Astrid Hofferson, call sign Valkyrie. The Dragonoid hater who'd rather let herself fall thirty thousand feet than take the hand of a 'traitor'. The soldier who had treated me worse than dirt and as an embarrassment to her team…

The woman who'd hugged me not even an hour before. The girl who let me hold her tight as her world was turned upside down and let a Dragonoid child hold onto her in turn.

I must have sighed. Astrid was giving me the most perplexed look she could muster. "What is it?"

"I don't know," I replied slowly, stepping back and away from her grip, "but you are  _really_  confusing me right now."

She blinked, then blushed. Astrid Hofferson, hardened soldier-to-be, flushed scarlet like a schoolgirl talking about her first crush.

"I'm…going through a lot at the moment…"

"That time of the month?"

"Ye-No! I mean  _no_! No! I mean…shut up!"

"Not my balls! Take the face, take the face!"

Her knee stopped halfway to my groin, a look of confliction flitting over her features at the cowering man in front of her.

"So…what  _do_  we do?"

I stood up, wary of fists and knees and the painful places they could strike at.

"I'll think of something. No,  _We'll_  think of something."

"We?"

"Me, Ruusaan…you?"

I let the question hang in the air, watched as Astrid winced at Ruusaan's name then blinked in surprise when I mentioned her. And why not? Why did I have to do this alone? It's not like I was asking someone for help who didn't know anything about the problem, right? And…and I'd be lying if a part of me hoped this might be progress; repairing years of damage on a friendship I'd never wanted to lose…

And then she hit me.

It wasn't hard, more of a tap to the shoulder, but seeing as it was Astrid and I was Hiccup, it was hard enough to push me off my feet and back onto the bench.

"Ow! Hey, what was that-?!"

I stopped, and so did my heart. Because although I couldn't see her eyes, hidden behind her long bangs, I could see the tears that trailed down her face, creating silvery trails in the dim light.

I had made Astrid Hofferson cry.

…

I was a dead man walking.

…

Damage control, man. Your future children depend on it.

"L-look-"

"Shut up."

Or I could shut up. That could work too.

Fists clenched and unclenched, white teeth chewing at her lower lip as an unheard argument seemed to be raging behind hidden eyes. And when she spoke, it was so softly I almost thought I hadn't heard anything at all.

"I'm sorry."

…

"W…what?"

"I'm sorry…for not listening to you back then. I just…I just didn't want to hear what you had to say."

"Well…to be fair I didn't want to believe it either." I tried to smile, tried to stand. "I mean who would really trust the word of a nine-year-old anyway-"

"I did." she pushed me back, stood with her knee crooked to the bench to stop me from standing up again. "I should have. You were my friend, Alex. That should have meant more than politicians and generals and the things that I wanted to hear."

"But you don't have to apologise." There was a time when I'd want nothing more than to hear the words spilling out of Astrid's mouth, but right now, with those tears now streaming silently down her face, I would have rather had her hate me for the rest of my life if it would have kept her from crying. "It was the brass' fault, not yours. You'd lost your Dad-"

"That's no excuse!" She sprung forward, hands clamped down painfully around my shoulders. "I should have trusted you! I should have listened to you! I should have…listened to myself. I wanted to believe you. I wanted to ignore everything they said but…"

"It was easier to hate Dragonoids then believe my theories."

She nodded slowly. "And I lost you for it. I pushed you away and focused on a revenge I thought I wanted, I  _needed_. I let Henrik and the others beat you down because I wanted you to deserve it. I hated you, but every day I had to remind myself why. Because if I didn't, then maybe…maybe I'd start wondering if you were…right…"

I couldn't stop myself. I cupped her face with both hands, feeling her freeze under my touch as I wiped those tears away. She looked at me, eyes red and puffy, and she was still one of the most beautiful creatures I'd ever seen.

I quirked a smile. "Were you always this sappy, or did Juuniis bring out an emotional side you never knew you had?"

She laughed, much to my relief. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm  _your_ idiot. And I'm always going to  _be_ your idiot. You can hate me for as long as you like Astrid, but I can't hate you. I'll never hate you. Ever."

"Now who's being a sap?"

"You are. Still. Dry eyes, see?"

She laughed again, warmer and stronger than before. Then, things seemed to change.

Slowly, with a hesitancy I'd expect more from Waif than my sergeant, Astrid leaned forward until I could feel her bangs against my forehead. Eyes closed, and a slight smile played across her pale lips.

"So…you're  _my_  idiot, are you?"

Oh God, had I said that?

"Kinda corny?"

"A little bit."

"Sorr-"

"Nope. None of that." she smacked my shoulder lightly. "I'm the one being sorry here. Take a ticket and wait your turn."

I leaned back slightly. "Wait…so I  _do_  have things to be sorry about?"

"Oh, absolutely." she grinned down at me, and I realised too late where she was leaning one knee on the bench… right between my legs. "I can forgive most of it though. The whining, the cheating on the AF training courses, the kidnapping-"

"Kidnapping!?" I let my hands drop as I stared at her like she'd grown an extra head. "The Fury took off on its' own! How was I-OWW!" She hit me again, hard enough I swore I felt my arm bones crack. "What was that for?!"

 _"That_  was for making me cry."

"Really? Seven years of pissing you off, and it's the waterworks at the end that deserves the pu-"

I stopped. Everything just…stopped. My mouth, my brain, my sheer sense of…well, everything.

Why? Because Astrid kissed me. Her hands cradled my face as she brought her lips to mine. Chaste and warm and utterly stupefying.

Maybe it lasted a minute, maybe it lasted a lifetime. I could only be sure of one thing when Astrid came up for air. I really wanted to kiss her again.

But first, I needed to ask. "A-and what was  _that_  for?"

Astrid smiled; bright and radiant, like nothing I had ever seen before.

"For staying with me, even when I tried to stay away."

Then she kissed me again, and this time, I had the sense to kiss her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Ni ja'hail gar ba'slanar. Ni partaylir te kyr'yc ca'nara mirdir… Ni chaabar par gar Hallex…"  
> (I saw you leave. I remember the last time and… I feared for you Alex…)
> 
> "Ni ceta."  
> (I'm sorry.)
> 
> "…Ni piryc…"  
> (…I'm well…)
> 
> "Ashi copaani ori'dush bat bintar eso. Al gar ganar'nass ori'dushyc Ni, mirdir Ni ganar'nass ori'dushyc gar. Ogir la naasad aht eparavur linibar."  
> (Others are wrong on both sides. But you haven't wronged me, and I haven't wronged you. There is nothing to apologise for.)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> And then they did stuff. Smexy stuff. They went home first though, park benches can be chilly.
> 
> Before I talk about this chapter, Crofty666 asked me how long an average Dragbonoid lived. I would say the life expectancy of an average Dragonoid is roughly the same as a modern day Human, perhaps a little bit more. It's just another little 'Not-so-different' element between the two species.
> 
> This chapter is the culmination of Dragonoid's original idea; to expand on Hiccup and Astrid's relationship, and make that sudden change of heart more believable, at least in my eyes. I really hope I've been successful in that department. To honest, I thought I'd have more to say on the subject, but honestly I'm just happy I got this far. I'm happy I finished the story too, but to reach this point and look back thinking "Yeah, this makes more sense, right?" was a good moment for me.
> 
> And then there's Ruusaan. Poor Ruusaan.
> 
> The story isn't over yet though. Plenty of time for things to happen, both good and bad (and isn't that a matter of perspective?).
> 
> While I appreciate the general feedback that no one really had any problems with the long word counts, chapters from here on out largely clock between four and just over six thousand words. That's just where I felt the chapters were best to break, I'm afraid.
> 
> Into Act Three ladies and gents! I hope you enjoy it!


	12. Section 011: Mav Gar Sushir

**SECTION 011**

**MAV GAR SUSHIR?**

_DATE: JANUARY 14, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 0634 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, WEST SECTOR FIVE, MCKRILLEN RESIDENCE_

The big day arrived, not that it was a big deal. Not really. Just taking down a Dragonoid. Nothing I hadn't done before. This one wouldn't even have a pilot; just the A.I. running the show like the Boneknappers over Paris. Sure the arena would be a lot more cramped, and the Viking didn't hold a candle to the Night Fury, and of course, I'd have an audience of several thousand watching every dodge and volley, but I could do it. If I really wanted, I could probably finish the fight in a matter of seconds.

But then again, that wasn't why I was up; fully dressed, coffee in hand. It was how…quiet everything had been.

The Dragonoids had been near silent since that November raid that had started this whole mess. It wasn't unusual for attacks to be thin on the ground during the winter months, but for them to ignore us completely was practically unheard of. It…worried everyone, and considering what Astrid and I had seen over in Washington Crater, I couldn't blame them. What was Zearaan doing over there? Even Ruusaan wasn't sure. The High Superior had held the position for centuries, far longer than any before him. How could you even begin to try and understand the mind of someone who had held power for so long? That was why I was up, having long ago given up on sleep to try and guess the thoughts of a very old, scarily powerful alien.

And of course, I hadn't told Dad. Stoic had been uneasy, to be sure, but had hidden such things behind long work hours and a focus on expanding the mobile fortress fleet and assault frame battalions. I don't think he'd even been home last night (the third in a row) if his still made bed was any indication.

Not that I was complaining. An absent father made it easier to try and figure out how I was going to tell him what I'd found out. That was my story and I was sticking to it.

That…and one other reason.

"Here you are. Again."

I looked up, and there was Astrid, leaning against the kitchen doorframe; eyes tired, hair mussed and out of its normal plait, and dressed in nothing but an open shirt a size too big and underwear that certainty wasn't military regulation. My shirt. Her underwear. Ah, the old cliché.

She smiled slightly. "And here I was thinking you going to run off without saying goodbye."

I looked at her strangely. "But it's my house."

She frowned, then rolled her eyes. "It's early. Shut up."

Hard to believe perfect soldier Astrid Hofferson wasn't a morning person.

"Are you nervous?"

"About what? The Dragonoid?" I laughed slightly. "Should I be?"

"No, but…" she squirmed under my gaze. "You're not going to… _do_  anything, are you?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something…Hiccup-y? Don't laugh!"

I smothered my grin, shaking my head from under my hand. Nope. No laughing here. "What exactly did you think I was going to do?"

"I don't know," she watched me abandon my coffee and walk around the table towards her. "But you've managed to learn how to fly a Night Fury and…befriend…its pilot in a matter of months. That's not exactly normal things normal soldiers do, you know."

"Then you can relax. I'm not going to do anything…Hiccup-y." She didn't meet my gaze, preferring to stare at my shoes as I stopped in front of her. "Just going to go in there, blow up a Dragonoid, and…I dunno, profit from it?"

She laughed, always a good sign. It was good, hearing Astrid laugh again. It was a shame it had to stop with what I had to say next.

"But…if something does go wrong, and-I'm-not-saying-it-will!" she looked annoyed as I rushed to stop her talking. "But if something  _does_  go wrong…just make sure they don't find Ruusaan or the Night Fury." I saw her wince under her bangs, hands closing into fists. "Just take her to Washington Crater and then dump the Fury in the ocean on the way back. Can you do that for me? Can you promise?"

A weary sigh was my answer, hands slowly uncurling to entwine with my own.

"I will," she said in a murmur, blue eyes finally raising up to meet my own. "Just…promise me it won't go wrong? That you'll be careful with that Dragonoid?"

I smiled wryly. "Honestly? It's not the Dragonoid I'm worried about."

* * *

_TIME: 1247 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, MILITARY POLICE ACADEMY ASSAULT FRAME TRAINING ARENA_

" _Well, I can show my face in_ public _again!"_

I rolled my eyes as the crowd roared with laughter, shifting uncomfortably in the cockpit chair of my Viking as I listened to my father's opening speeches. He'd insisted on it, as if going through with this battle wasn't bad enough. Not that anyone was complaining. The viewing areas were packed to bursting, hundreds of faces, including those of the brass, staring down into the arena pit to join thousands more watching from their homes in The Dome to see me tear some poor Dragonoid to shreds. What are we, soldiers or Romans at the Coliseum? I wonder if I'm the lions or the Christians?

 _"If someone had told me that in a few short months, Alexander from, well…being…Hiccup, to graduating_ first  _in his class_   _in Assault Frame training? Well, I'd of had him tied down to a gurney, and shipped off to the nearest asylum, for fear he'd gone mad!"_  more laughter from the crowd. More eye rolling from me.  _"But…here we are. And no one is more surprised…or more proud than I am."_  His voice was soft, almost reverent; words I'd always wanted to hear, but now felt that I didn't deserve. After all, would I have really gotten this far without using the bits and pieces of knowledge I'd gathered up on Dragonoid mechanics from working on the Night Fury with Ruusaan?  _"Today, Alexander McKrillen will earn his stripes. Today, my boy will join the officer's ranks of The Dome Military Police!"_

Roars and applause turned the audio into a static-ridden mess before I cut the channel. I put away my thoughts and problems and focused on the battle to come. One Dragonoid, probably a Nightmare. Nothing to worry about. Just establish a link and put on a show. Nothing flashy and nothing that would take too long. Then it was just a question of going through the pomp and ceremony that followed these things. The handshakes, the medals and the smiling for the cameras. Then I was free, and I could focus on more important things. Like what was Zearaan planning, and how could two Humans and a rogue Dragonoid stop him?

 _"Ye all right in there Hiccup?"_  Gobber's voice crackled in my ear.

"As I'll ever be." I moved the Viking forward as the doors groaned open, bringing weapons to bear. "Everything alright on your end?"

 _"Bringing out ye opponent now."_ The old veteran could barely contain the glee in his voice.  _"Got ya a real treat, let me tell ya! Ye gonna knock 'em dead!"_

"What did you find? Some kind of Boneknapper?"

_"Oh, better than tha'! You won't believe what I found fer ya! An' on a local patrol too! Nothing like it in the database, but between you an' me, I think it could be a-"_

"Night Fury."

My blood ran cold, eyes wide and hands shaking around the control sticks for the sight that met me from across the arena. A Night Fury,  _my_  Night Fury, was being towed out into the arena. It strained and bucked against its chains, caps over its cameras preventing it from blasting everyone into oblivion. It looked more banged up than when I'd seen it last; a few more scratches and scars that hadn't been there before, no doubt inflicted during its capture.

And Ruusaan…

"What about the pilot?" I forced myself to ask. "Did you find-"

 _"Ah, tha's de best part!"_ I could practically hear this battered old war veteran bouncing on the balls of his feet like a kid at Christmas.  _"She was just camping out in the country, right under our noses! Caught 'er praying to some mound of dirt. Lucky fer us, eh? Shame we couldn' get ta de Dragonoid before its AI sealed the cockpit hatch and went loony…"_

This wasn't happening. Not now. Not when everything was so simple and separate. It couldn't all blur together now.

No, I had to stay calm. Focus on the fight. Make it quick, even if it meant destroying the Fury.

_"It's time Hiccup. Knock 'em dead."_

I pushed the Viking forward, watched as the Fury's chains snapped free and the Dragonoid rose unsteadily into the air as the camera covers fell away. It was scanning its' surroundings, looking for weaknesses…and enemies. I could feel its' cameras turn to be as I established a private channel.

"Dragonoid, friendly contact confirm. Pilot Access: Ruusaan, Youth, Code 3262010. Confirm."

Because speaking Dragonoid to this Frankenstein AI I had created had worked so well before.

_"Authorization recognised. Contact confirmed. Orders requested."_

"Begin Defence Lockdown. Do not pursue until further orders. Confirm." A good start if nothing else.

_"Order confirmed. Stand by. Be advised, potential hostile is within range. Opening audio channels."_

"No, don't do that." I protested with a roll my eyes. I'd long since realised there was nothing I could do to stop these random transmissions Dragonoid AI seemed intent on broadcasting to the world. In moments of calm, or in the heat of battle, it was always the same three words.

Mav gar sushir. Will you…

_"Will you listen?"_

…

What?

_"Will you listen?"_

The words repeated, paused long enough to realise it wasn't getting a response before repeating them again and again.

Will you listen. I'd never really thought about the line before. I'd thought it was odd, the Dragonoids asking me to listen even as they tried to blow my brains out. But now the Dragonoid in question was asking in English…and it wasn't attacking.

In fact, the Night Fury hadn't even moved. Neither had I, thinking about it. No moves to attack, no moves to defend from either of us. Just an empty quiet, the hum of machinery and that endless message the only noise.

_"Will you listen?"_

And now I was thinking about every other time I'd heard that message. Every training battle against every kind of Dragonoid currently in operation. The Gronckle, the Nadder, all of them. Had they ever even tried to land a killing blow? No, the first Gronckle, the one we'd faced without Vikings, only attacked when provoked (And let's face it, Snotlout being in the arena was probably offence enough), and only disarmed us even when it had me at point-blank range of its plasma mortar.

Then there was the Nadder. It had chased us around that maze, but in the end, we did more damage to each other than it ever did.

And the Zippleback, it hadn't attacked until Nu Squad had started fighting with itself. Sure, it had gotten Astrid's Viking pinned, but an AI shouldn't give you the chance to fight back. If anything, the turret it had pointed at her AF had been there to try and stop her from doing something stupid, right?

Was that what the 'berserker' Dragonoids were trying to do? Not kill their targets, but disable them? Is that why captured Dragnoids were used for training Assault Frame recruits, because in over two and a half centuries, no one had ever been killed by them?

And was this the reason? This three worded message? Was the point of a Dragonoid AI's 'berserker' mode, not to cause as much destruction as possible, but to force an issue? To give its' target no other option…but to listen?

_"Will you listen?"_

My mouth was dry, my hands gripped tight enough around the control sticks I knew my knuckles were turning white under my gloves. It needed an answer, but what should I say? What would it do if I said yes? I tried not to think about what might happen if I said no.

And then, I had a far uglier thought. Because in every battle I'd fought in this arena, the Dragonoids had broadcast this same message on every radio channel and spoke aloud through the onboard speakers. On every other occasion though, those words had been in the language of the race that built it. A language few within The Dome knew to read or speak. On a normal day, Mav gar sushir would have been dismissed by those who didn't understand it as garbled rubbish or a war declaration they didn't need to hear.

But these were  _English_  words, from an  _alien_  Dragonoid. And it was being broadcast to an entire arena, and a Dome, full of English-speaking people.

Shit.

 _"Ah, Hiccup? Ye there?"_ Gobber's voice had lost its bounce.  _"Stoic want's ye ta pull back. Sumtings not right-"_

"No."

The word softly left me before I realised what I'd said, and to whom.

There was a long pause.

 _"Hiccup, we really need ye to pull back."_  he sounded worried now, probably not helped by my body deciding to push the Viking towards the Fury with weapons stowed away.  _"Ye've got nuthing to prove tadey, Lad. Just let us bring the Fury back an' we'll get ye sumting-"_

"I want to see how this plays out."

_"Hiccup…No, Alex, don't do anyt-"_

I shut the radio off and pulled my helmet off for good measure as I pulled my AF to halt before the Dragonoid. As I'd thought, the Fury hadn't moved an inch. It seemed content to watch as I powered the Viking down, its cameras focused on me as I popped the hatch and dropped down to the arena floor.

_"Will you listen?"_

Did it even recognise me? Or did its' programming just ordering it to ask this question to everyone it met?

Did it really matter, now that I was about to answer the question it continued to ask?

_"Will you listen?"_

I stared up into my Fury's cameras, making sure it couldn't mistake my words for anything else.

"I will l-

_"I SAID STOP THE FIGHT!"_

The voice roared, my father's voice. I'd heard him mad more times then I can count, but this sounded beyond anger. This was fury, a man enraged…and afraid.

I wanted to think it was because his only son was standing just feet away from an alien killing machine. If I didn't know the kind of things Gregorio McKrillen could do, I might have even believed it.

_"I WANT THE ARENA CLEARED NOW! ALL ASSAULT FRAMES MOVE IN, TAKE THAT DRAGONOID DOWN!"_

Not good. Already, I could see a change in the Fury as the gates opened around the arena, and the heavy footsteps of oncoming Vikings vibrated through the cavernous room.

No, not good at all.

 _"Hiccup! Move away from the Dragonoid!"_ Stoic's voice boomed in my ears, maddeningly loud and edged with fear. I didn't move.  _"That is an order, Alexander! Get away now! You don't know what you're doing!"_

The Fury stared down at me, its cameras occasionally darting to the noise of oncoming Assault Frames. It had a question that needed answering, and I had so many questions of my own I wanted to ask myself. But if the Dragonoid stayed here, whatever I needed to listen to might not be around for much longer.

So I ignored it all. Ignored Stoic's shouting, ignored the oncoming Vikings and the weight in the pit of my gut at what I was about to do.

The Fury watched me, almost carefully.  _"Will you listen?"_

Not yet.

"Release Intelligence Control."

The cameras flashed, the Fury abruptly landing with a plume of dust on the ground.

_"Intelligence Control Released. Awaiting pilot input."_

I was halfway to the hatch before it popped open, the Night Fury's cockpit already thrumming with energy as I dropped myself into my chair and settled my hands and feet around controls so much more familiar than the Viking ever hoped to be.

_"Alex…?"_

The last noise I heard before the hatch hissed shut; a note of…something in Stoic's voice. Disbelief? Regret? It was hard to tell, and quickly lost as I pointed the plasma energy cannons skyward and pulled the trigger. Concrete roof and steel exploded outward as I rocketed out of the arena, armour rattling with debris as dust clouds parted for the blue skies above.

So, I was out. Out of the arena, out of trouble, out of harm's way. At least for the moment. A moment to catch a breath, think things through…and realise what I'd done.

Well…shit.

No, I couldn't think about the shitstorm. I needed to find Ruusaan, and Astrid too if I could manage it, and then put as much space between us and The Dome as possible. The Fury's question still echoed in my mind, but it could wait. It would have to-

_"Alex!"_

"Astrid?" Speak of the Valkyrie, and she shall invade your radio.

 _"I'm broadcasting this on all frequencies, so I hope you're listening because we don't have much time."_ I could hear her pounding footsteps, the sound of angry soldiers too close behind.  _"Ruusaan's being held in the Detention Block on Level Seventeen of Central Tower. Gobber told me she's under heavy guard, but I don't think they'll be expecting a Dragonoid to crash their part-"_ A gunshot froze my blood, Astrid's cry turning my knuckles white around the control sticks.  _"Alex…"_

The radio went dead.

"Astrid? Astrid! As-!"

Gunfire shook the Fury, several Vikings of various weapon loadouts pouring from the arena's outer doors as alarm bells rang out clear across The Dome, and me in a Dragonoid built for night attacks. To say I probably stuck out against the bright blue sky was an understatement, but even then I knew I had the advantage. Not the flight, not when the Assault frames below were practically built for anti-air warfare.

But the N-Link. Could I really use something like that against actual Humans? It had been a gamble, pitting the Fury against other Dragonoids, but Vikings were a whole different story.

When a missile exploded too close for comfort off my wing, I realised I didn't have much of a choice.

So I let the blue light take me, shivered as the cold swept over me and the Night Fury shifted into its humanoid form. I felt the Dragonoid shudder as it brought rifle and shield to bear, as though even my own machine regretted what I was about to make it do.

Target in sight, even the Viking far below seemed to hesitate.

Without closing my eyes, I fired.

Opening salvos cut through leg armour and machinery, the Fury darting around its target faster than the Viking could turn. More blasts struck weapon barrels and self-righting jet manifolds, every shot on target and keeping clear of the cockpit until one caught the missile salvos, blasting the eviscerated machine onto its side.

His friend at least had the chance to fire back, my Dragonoid dancing through bullets to put shots in both legs and sear the cameras off, head and all, falling back with an earth shuddering crash.

Threats neutralised, for now at least. It wouldn't be much longer before the main forces would be deployed from The Dome, and with them-

_"ALEXANDER!"_

…My father.

I pulled the Fury back, thrusters complaining at the sudden shift as a scattershot round exploded a million shards of metal across the area I had almost been in.

Stoic led the charge, smoothbore cannon shooting more scattershot rounds into the sky, trying to limit my movements as his comrades tried to shoot me down.

 _"I should've known! I should've seen the signs!"_  I could hear his voice crack, from rage or despair I couldn't say.  _"It was all a lie, wasn't it? A trick to pull the wool over my eyes."_

"It's always about you, isn't it?" I spat back, sending two more Vikings back into crumpled heaps. "What do you want me to say? That I screwed up? That I should have told you before now? Would you have believed anything I said?"

 _"And that was enough, was it? To throw your lot in with them? They've killed_ billions  _of us-"_

"But we might have pulled the trigger first." I flew up out of range, just as a missile exploded close enough to feel the heat through the Fury's armour. "We've been fighting this war for so long, I'm not sure either side really knows what's going on anymore."

 _"They're nothing but monsters!"_  More explosions filled the air, forcing me down.  _"There's nothing more to be said! Out for our blood, to conquer our world-!"_

"Ruusaan is not a monster!" I fired back. "And a lot of them are no different from us! People like you, who just want to wipe the enemy out. But people like Arthur Hofferson, who just want to make peace. If you could just see what was going on in Washington Crater, then you'd-"

_"You've been to Washington Crater?"_

…

Shit.

"I didn't say that."

_"How did you do it? How did you get past the patrols, the defences…the Night Fury!"_

No. No, no, no….

_"That's how you got past! Of course, the Dragonoids would let one of their own through, and if we can use the Fury's signal, mask the mobile fortresses with its IFF…"_

Nonononono!

"Dad, it's not what you think!" I cursed the pleading note in my voice as I pulled the Fury away. "You don't know what you're up against!" He wasn't thinking straight. He still saw the Dragonoids as mindless monsters, easily tricked. He didn't know about Zearaan, hell,  _I_  didn't know that much about Zearaan. But I knew enough; knew that no frontal or surprise attack would be enough. "It'll be a bloodbath like nothing you've ever seen!" All those Dragonoids, coming home, readying for…something. "Dad, please! I promise you that you can't win this one!"

_"All units, shoot to disable! Bring that Dragonoid down intact if you can!"_

No…NO!

The gunfire came thick and fast, even as the N-Link counter clicked down to zero and pain flashed through my every nerve. I couldn't stop, not when Stoic couldn't see, not when everything was unravelling too fast for me to hold it together.

"No, Dad No!" I could taste blood in my mouth, even as I transformed the Fury back into its Dragonoid form and dived towards the Viking battalion below "For once in your life, WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST LISTEN TO ME?!"

The other Frames scattered, still firing but getting out of the way between me and the gate. Only my father held fast, Recoilless rifle blazing and smoothbore cannon raised to the oncoming Fury.

It was only when he fired did I realise my mistake.

The scattershot round exploded, shards of metal missing my Dragonoid by inches as I forced it down to avoid the shot.

Down, into the ground.

Metal screeched and alarms screamed as the Night Fury bounced off grass onto tarmac, thrusters protesting as I tried to keep sixty metric tons of alien war machine in the air and failed miserably. I couldn't breathe, couldn't concentrate beyond the haze of pain and the taste of blood. I felt my own hands go limp as the Night Fury finally crashed to the earth, skidding across it with sparks and shrieks before finally coming to a halt at the feet of my father's Viking.

The AF stared down at me, rifle aimed at the Dragonoid's heart.

"Dad…please…" I couldn't black out. Not now. Not when so many people could die on both sides…

The radio crackled with static, blind hope filling my failing mind as my father spoke.

_"You've thrown your lot in with them."_

No…no that's not true…

_"You're not a soldier."_

You're right, but I can still-

_"You're not my son."_

And as consciousness left me, I felt my entire world just…break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Dragonoid Translations for this chapter, but please go to https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6488447/12/Dragonoid for some Author's Notes concerning Section 010.
> 
> On to today's chapter, I think it's a good indication how how things radically change from HttyD's original plot and yet how a lot of it stays the same.
> 
> The appearance of the Night Fury over the Nightmare, along with Ruusaan's capture, was my attempt to inject the seriousness of the original scene into the new one. Alex has been shown to destroy AI-controlled Dragonoids before now, so I thought to pit him against one now wouldn't carry the same weight. It also gave me a way to bring Ruusaan and the Night Fury into the arena, as the 'Toothless-senses-Hiccup's-in-danger' sequence from the film had felt a bit too convenient to be properly integrated as it was. I thought about have Ruusaan sneak into the arena to watch Alex's battle and to step in when something went wrong, but a part of me felt she would have a harder time blending in, even in a hat, than Alex and Astrid did blending in on the Rock. The sequence I went with just seemed to solve both problems at once. Ruusaan's capture was deliberately left out to avoid suspicion on the reader's part on where the story was going. I'm not entirely sure how well it worked though. Maybe it came a bit out of left field? If I ever write any bonus chapters, it's certainly on the list of possible events I would write about.
> 
> That's all for today. Next time, the prelude to the final battle! See you then!


	13. Section 012: Plans in Motion

**SECTION 012**

**PLANS IN MOTION**

_DATE: JANUARY 14, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1445 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, DOME COUNCIL CHAMBER_

In all her time in politics, Miranda Gothi had never seen the Council Chamber fill as quickly for an emergency meeting as it had today. Even during her tenure as Mayor, it would normally have taken at least a day for every representative to drop what they were doing to attend even the most important meetings.

And yet, every seat was filled, all eyes on her as an incessant murmur filled the cavernous room.

At least until General McKrillen entered, his footsteps echoing into the rafters as every mouth fell silent.

"General McKrillen," Gothi tried not to flinch under the intense glare as he stepped up to the table. "What do you have-"

"An attack plan." Gregorio turned to face the amassed representatives, the emitter rising from the table behind him. "Ladies and gentlemen of the council, for two hundred and fifty years we fought the Dragonoids; watched nations fall and lose more of our world to them day by day. I am here to tell you now: One week from today, this war will be over." He let the thought sink in, as murmurs flew about in the dark and the image of an unfamiliar Dragonoid mecha bathed the chamber in pale blue light. "This is a Night Fury, captured intact, the A.I. deactivated. With it, we have gained access to the key to Washington Crater: A Dragonoid's IFF signal." The Dragonoid disappeared, replaced with the three-dimensional map of England, North America, the Atlantic Ocean…and a swarm of green dots on the English west coast slowly turning red. "By linking all forces into this signal, we will be able to bypass whatever surveillance devices they've planted between us." He stared out at the silent masses as the map faded. "At 0500 hours tomorrow, every able-bodied soldier from every division who is not on mandatory service is to report to the mobile fortress docking ports. We leave for Washington Crater at 0800."

"Leave?" behind her anger, Gothi felt herself jump to her feet. "Now wait just one moment, general! I'll admit to allowing some leniency towards you in the past, but if you think I'm going to allow you to take every Military Police officer on another damn crusade without a vote or-"

"That is  _exactly_  what you are going to do."

"E-excuse me…?"

Her voice died as the General turned back to her. Cold fury lacing eyes and face as he leaned his fists against the table. Gothi found herself slumping back into her chair, even before he spoke.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," he said, deathly quiet. "I am going to take  _everything._  Every soldier, every gun, every assault frame, AF transporter and mobile fortress. And I am going to take them across the ocean to that devil's nest, and I am going to kill every demon in that hell forsaken crater. By the time this week is out, I will have ended this war." He leaned forward, the table creaking ominously under his weight. "And there is  _nothing_  you can do to stop me."

Then, he left. Strode silently away, without a backward glance, even as every uniformed man and women left their seats and guard posts to follow him.

And Gothi could only watch as they left, followed even by some of their civilian counterparts towards the end, leaving her and precious few others alone and powerless in the cavernous Council Chamber.

* * *

_DATE: JANUARY 15, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1033 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, MILITARY POLICE MEDICAL DEPARTMENT, SICK BAY 7-2A_

Huh. An unfamiliar ceiling.

White panels greeted stinging eyes and a splitting headache, my ears and nose assaulted by the quiet sounds and clinical cleanliness that could only come with spaces used by the Medical Department.

So, I'd passed out. That couldn't be good.

"It's a mess."

Astrid sat at the foot of my bed, cuffed there hand and foot, bandages peeking through a bullet hole in her trousers just above the knee. Outside the open door, I could see a nervous looking Fishlegs fiddling with his pistol holster. Not a good sign, when the Military Police was apparently so short-handed  _Fishlegs_  was assigned to guard duty. And guarding the top two AF Training graduates at that.

Speaking of giant mecha…

"How long-" my voice croaked.

"Around a day, give or take." Astrid shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable with two limbs chained down. "You missed your Dad. He looked in on you before they left at 0800."

"The Night Fury?"

"He took it with him. The scuttlebutt's had it that he's planning on linking the fleet into its' IFF signal, get across ocean undetected-" She stopped when I laughed, then frowned when it turned into a violent coughing fit. "You okay?"

"Peachy." as if masking a fleet of mobile fortresses under one signal was going to work. Just how dumb did Dad think the Dragonoids were? "What about Ruusaan?"

"Still under guard. Waif was there, last Fishlegs heard. You practically left the keys in the ignition, Alex. There wasn't any need to bring her along."

"Great." Some good news at least. I tried to sit up and get out of the bed, only to find my arm cuffed to the rail.

Why…oh…right. The whole 'betrayal' thing.

"You must feel horrible." her words cut through my thoughts. "You've lost everything. Your father, the trust of the people you serve-"

"Thank you for summing that up." I snapped back, falling back onto the pillows with a soft thump. The last thing I needed right now was a recap of my most recent failures. I didn't even have to think long about when everything had started to go horribly wrong. If…if I'd just…

"Why couldn't I have killed that Dragonoid when I found her in the woods?" It hurt to say it, a lump in my throat cracking my words. "It would have been better for everyone."

"Yep. The rest of us would've done it." the answer came without hesitation. Honest, but not cold. "So why didn't you?"

…

"Why  _didn't_  you?"

I turned my head away, my cuffed hand stopping me from twisting away from her completely. "I don't know. I couldn't."

"That's not an answer-"

"Why is this so important to you all of a sudden?" I rounded back with a glare, only to falter when I caught her look.

Astrid stared at me, eyes intense, body leaned forward as far as her handcuffs would allow.

"Because I want to remember what you say, right now."

I winced, looking up to the unfamiliar ceiling just to avoid the weight developing in my chest under her gaze.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked quietly. "I was a coward? I was weak? I wouldn't kill a Dragon-"

"You said 'wouldn't' that time."

"Well, I wouldn't," I laughed hollowly. "Two and a half centuries of conflict, and  _I'm_  the first Human who wouldn't kill a Dragonoid!"

…

"First one to talk to one, though. First one to befriend one too."

That…that was actually a good point. No matter what happened, Ruusaan was the first friend I'd made in…years. Not a sometimes friend like Patrick, or a friend made because of the fame I'd gained these past few months. Ruusaan was a true friend; someone who had my back, and vice versa. Someone I trusted with my life.

But how had it all happened? What had started this chain reaction that had led to a Human and a Dragooned ignoring over two hundred fifty years of bad blood…to become friends?

"I wouldn't kill her…because she looked as scared as I was." I felt my eyebrows rise in disbelief as I voiced the thought, a great weight lifting from my shoulders. "I looked at her…and I saw myself."

I saw Astrid smile, settling back in her chair. "I bet she's really frightened now."

"All alone. Locked up in the heart of enemy territory. Who wouldn't be?"

"So what are you going to do about it?"

I gave her a look. "Locked up in here? Probably not much."

"Humour me."

…

"Probably something stupid."

She laughed at my sheepish grin. "Good, but you've already done that."

…

"Something…crazy?"

"That's more like it."

She smiled in the sudden silence, then glared towards the door. "I said, that's more like it!"

"Oh, was that my cue?" of all the faces to suddenly come swinging smugly around the doorframe, Snotlout's was probably the last one I expected. "Sorry, you two were being all motivational and junk in here, so we blocked it out. Kinda messes with the whole 'tough girl' thing you've got going on, Sarge."

Astrid rolled her eyes, even as the grinning idiot wiggled his eyebrows and tossed her the key to her freedom. Why he was still trying was beyond me. The 'developments' between Astrid and me weren't exactly a secret amongst the soldiers under twenty, although I had heard the scuttlebutt talk of being 'just a phase' being thrown around before…all this happened.

And Henrik wasn't even our only visitor. Even as Patrick abandoned his post to unlock my restraints, the Thornston twins were grinning their heads off from the doorway.

"Sooo…what's going on he-"

"You were wise to seek help from the world's most deadly weapon!" Tuffnut proclaimed out of nowhere, grinning like a maniac. "That's me, by the by."

"Uh…"

"Oh yeah, I  _love_ this plan by the way." Snotlout nodded eagerly, momentarily distracted from trying to steal Astrid away. "Don't know what the plan  _is_  yet, but if it's you, I'm sure I'm going to love it!"

"But I didn't-"

"You're crazy," my field of view was suddenly blocked by the face of Ruffnut, close enough to see every spot, zit and blackhead, her eyes lidded in an attempt to be sultry. "I  _like_  that."

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not even going to entertain that line of thinking. Not without being violently ill anyway. My vision was quickly cleared by Astrid, violently yanking Rita aware by her collar, muttering something about 'refusing to turn a triangle into a square' as she took her place with an encouraging smile.

"So, Lieutenant. What is the plan?"

I grinned as I sat up, even as I cringed at the rank. "You really have to ask?"

* * *

_TIME: 1102 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, LEVEL SEVENTEEN, MILITARY POLICE DETENTION BLOCK_

She'd been distracted. That was Ruusaan's story and she was sticking to it. Distracted by Alex and what he had told her of home, and High Superior Zearaan. Distracted by Alex, the Human named Astrid and the interactions between them. Distracted by Alex. Worried about Alex. Something clenching in her chest because of-

It was little wonder Ruusaan had been caught off guard. The Humans hadn't even given her a chance to fight back before she'd been knocked out cold. And now, here she was; chained and shackled to a hard metal chair with no one but her guards for company. Guards that, as of this morning, had been replaced with a single tiny Human female, who shook so hard every time the two of them made eye contact that the large rifle in her hands looked close to rattling itself apart.

Something must have happened. Ruusaan refused to believe that the fearsome Human resistance that had held strong for over a hundred sixty cycles would use such terrified soldiers to guard over their enemy prisoners.

Speaking of which.

The girl shrieked, rifle aimed towards the loud thump of the detention block's door opening just out of sight. She faltered at something Ruusaan couldn't see, conflict evident on her face.

"Y-you shouldn't be here," she whispered, her voice muffled by the thick glass of the cell door as her face went bright red. "G-general's o-orders. N-no one c-can see her u-until he r-returns. Especially you. S-sir."

From beyond the wall, Ruusaan heard a laugh. It was sad yet familiar, as though the one who voiced it had heard similar sentiments just one time too often.

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that."

And then, there he was. A little paler than before, dark rings encircling his eyes as he smiled sheepishly at the shaking girl and her rattling rifle. Her co-pilot, her friend, her…

"Hallex…"

He caught her stare, and gave a comforting smile, before turning back to her guard. "You need to let her go, Waif."

"I-I can't. G-General McKrillen-"

"I know what my Dad said, but if you don't help me his own orders are going to get everyone killed." he stepped forward, grabbing her shoulder before she could step back. "Sarah, I can stop this.  _We_  can stop this. Hell, if I'm right, we might even be able to end the war completely-"

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then we're all dead anyway." A smirk slipped onto his face. "So what do you have to lose?"

The guard frowned, features scrunched up in an uncomfortable mental debate.

Finally, her shoulders slumped.

"O…okay."

And then, the door was opening. And Alex was there, all smiles reaching up to his eyes as he slipped keys into locks and pulled shackles off her sore limbs.

"Sorry I took so long-"

She didn't care about what he had to say. She didn't care for the crowd that was warily watching her, or that Astrid's eyes narrowed in time with Ruusaan's rise out of her seat. Ruusaan just wanted to make sure he was real, that everything happening wasn't just some bad dream induced by lack of sleep or torture.

So she stood up and pulled Alex towards her, hugging him tight to her chest.

He was there, he was real, his hands coming around her waist and resting against her back, holding her just as tight.

"Ugh, really!? The alien chick too!?" A flat faced Human ruined the moment, turning to Astrid with disbelief on his punchable face. "I get that he's good with Vikings and Dragonoids, but he's still Hiccup! Where's this appeal coming from, Sarge?"

"Because he's…" Astrid trailed off, looking to the guard for help.

"He's…" Waif, in turn, shrugged, a shy smile on her blushing face aimed at her boots.

Ruusaan merely grinned, holding him tight for as long as she dared, burying her face in his hair.

"Becouze he'z Hallex."

* * *

_TIME: 1127 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, DOME COUNCIL CHAMBER_

She hated alcohol. It wasn't until Gothi had emptied the second bottle of green stuff that her Deputy Mayor had hidden under his chair 'for emergencies' that she remembered why. It burned her throat, dulled her senses, and in a few hours would make her more miserable than she already was.

But after today, what could a bit more misery do to her?

The chamber was empty, those few loyal representatives that hadn't followed General McKrillen out having long gone home. What was the point in holding parliament if two-thirds of those who were supposed to be there, weren't?

The Dome was quiet, for now. The absence of the Military Police had been noticed immediately, but even the shadiest of the settlement's denizens were keeping to themselves. Times were too uncertain for even the underworld to make a move. If something happened to the fleet, if anything but a victory for Gregorio occurred…well, Miranda didn't want to think about it. In fact, the mayor didn't want to think about anything except the third bottle she was currently reaching for…

"Mayor Gothi?"

…until a voice she shouldn't have been able to hear broke through her muddled thoughts.

Alexander McKrillen stood before the grand table, peering uncertainty at the drunken woman slumped on the floor beside her chair. Wasn't he supposed to be chained to a bed somewhere? Weren't the others that surrounded him supposed to be guarding hi…oh.

Even with her brain currently like mush, Gothi could put the pieces together.

"You see, Greg?" she muttered to the annoyingly absent general. "This is what happens when you take every able soldier on a…a credulous crusade."

"I think you meant ridiculous, Ma'am."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." she staggered to her feet, forcing her vision to sharpen and focus on the should-be prisoner that studied her. She shook his hand away.

"You obviously didn't break out of your restraints to stare at a drunk politician, Lt. McKrillen." He winced at his rank. It almost made her smile to see such a reaction from the general's son. "But if you think I can do something to stop your father, as you can see, you're sadly mistaken."

She gestured to the empty hall as she reached for the bottle again, only to be stopped by a pale hand over hers.

Alex smiled at her. "You might want to keep a clear head for this one. Well…a clearer head anyway."

Miranda scowled, slumping back into her chair to stop the room spinning quite so much. "I have no council with which to hold parliament, and no other plans other than waiting to see if it's your father or the Dragonoids who will be cresting the horizon. So please, Lieutenant, enlighten me as to why I cannot drown myself in drink until then?"

"Well Ma'am, I'm no expert, but I don't think it bodes well for diplomatic relations when one of the representative parties can barely stand."

"What are you-" She stopped when the small group parted, revealing a single tall Humanoid behind them. A Humanoid with a long, narrow face, flanked by ridges of bone where her ears should have been, slitted green eyes watching her carefully, thin lips pulled back into a nervous smile and revealing a row of sharp teeth behind them.

"Ah." Gothi felt she should have said more. Or maybe just screamed it a little louder. She gave a little wave. "Hello there."

The Dragonoid mimicked the movement awkwardly. "Hullo dere."

"Huh." the mayor blinked owlishly at the alien, then turned back to her companion. "And to what, Lt. McKrillen, do I owe the pleasure of having one of the enemy standing in front of me?"

"Well, for starters, she's not our enemy. None of them are," Alexander still smiled as he gently helped her to her feet, "and for seconds, if you'll let her, She's here to help you answer a question…and maybe even end this war."

* * *

_TIME: 1403 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, NEWQUAY RUINS, CMF_  SAINT GEORGE _, COMMAND CENTRE_

She was the first of her class, the first of three, her sisters,  _Beowulf_ and  _Vahagn,_  now flanking her sides. Her Y-shaped hull crushed ruined buildings under her immense bulk, bristling with weapons ranging from anti-air to the twin barrel rail guns mounted where the bow split. A mobile fortress far larger and more powerful than any vessel of war before her. A true dragon slayer, Stoic mused, and now once more,  _Saint George_  led the charge to slay the beasts.

Around the dreadnoughts, numerous  _Cerberus_  destroyers followed them into war. Behind them came the AF transports, each filled to capacity with Assault Frames armed to the teeth. When the time came, they would flood Washington Crater with bullets and mortar fire, missiles and rockets, but for now, they all followed on silently behind  _Saint George_ , their connection to the flagship hiding them from the view of the enemy.

Electronically, at least.

Locked down in one of  _Saint George_ 's larger cargo bays, the Night Fury betrayed its' makers; broadcasting its IFF signal, a signal every unit in the fleet now broadcast. The surveillance network wouldn't be triggered, and Dragonoids wouldn't fill the skies. Not this time.

"We need ta talk."

Gobber was at his side, a grim look on his weathered face. Stoic kept his eyes on the ocean ahead, and the thick fog that was rolling in beyond the Bridge's windows.

"There's talk in the fleet." his friend continued when he didn't reply. "Don't take this the wrong way, but ye've got a lotta people wundering what exactly it is we're up ta here."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"They get the basics. It's the details they're sketchy on." Gobber's frown deepened. "We've followed ya this far, Gregorio, 'cause ye've always been the man with the plan. Except fer now. 'Cause now I've got whisperers asking if there's a plan at all. And what dat plan might be."

"Sail to Washington Crater. Kill every monster within it. Take back our home." Gregorio glanced over at the Major with a thin smile. "Enough of a plan for you, Gus?"

To his annoyance, Gobber rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course. The ol' smash and grab. Wunderful."

"You don't think it will work?"

"I don' think ye've got ye head on straight. Not after everything that's happened."

Silenced reigned, orders stopped flowing, and the wide eyes of all watched as Gregorio slowly turned to his friend.

"Are you questioning me-"

"Ye damn right I'm questioning ye!" Gobber scowled as he saw Stoic blink in surprise. "Don't give me that. I've followed ye on operations where 'gone ta shite' don't exactly cover it, but this right here? This is mad, Greg. Ye not thinking straight, or are ye telling me that the Dragonoids are dumb enough not to question why a large number o' friendlies are heading fer home fer no good reason?"

"They're monsters, Gus." Stoic tried to smile, a painful movement that matched the sting in his chest. Why didn't he understand? Gobber had always stood by him, even in his darkest moments after the  _Paladin_  disaster, and the things he did that followed it. What was different now? "They're animals; mindless, savage-"

"That's bullshite an' ye know it!" the words stopped him cold. "I can call the Dragonoids a lot o' things, but stupid ain't one o' 'em. They're gonna see this a mile off, Gregorio. An' if ye'd just stopped this mad rampage of insane thoughts for a moment, ye'd see exactly  _why_  ye've dragged the entire fleet out here!"

"Fergus, don't you dare-"

"Ask yeself this Gregorio!" Gobber thundered on. "If Alexander had done what anyone else would've done when finding an intact Dragonoid mech and its' pilot in the woods; if he had brought them to ya on a silver platter, would we really be gallivanting across the Atlantic, or would we still be back home, maybe actually  _planning_ an attack-"

"He  _betrayed_  us, Gus."

"Yeah? Ye ever think 'e might have 'ad a good reason?"

"A good reason?!" Stoic laughed hollowly. "What reason could he possibly have for keeping this from us!? The Dragonoids are monsters, Gus! They've wiped out entire nations, killed billions and reduced the Human race to a handful of fractured settlements of limited numbers. And now we have a way to fight back, a way to catch the enemy off guard and push them off our world once and for all. And Alexander tried to hide that from us. He had the key to victory for  _months_ , and he hid it from us! So tell me Gus." the general leaned in close, eyes narrowed at Gobber's unwavering scowl, "What possible reason could he have for doing that, besides betrayal?"

"I-" Gobber stopped, the anger frozen on his face, slowly becoming confusion as his gaze fell to the deck.

It took only a moment for Stoic to realise why.

 _Saint George_ was shuddering, far more than the ship's magna-lift engines should have allowed.

And it was only getting stronger.

"General…"

As the windows started to rattle, Stoic followed the horrified gaze of his helmsman out into the fog.

From the grey, a shadow emerged; long and tall, towering over the fleet maybe ten kilometres or so into the air. From its head, red stained the clouds, a rippling heat tearing through the mist and slowly revealing the last thing Stoic expected, or wanted, to see.

 _Ruus beh Tsad Droten_  pulled through the grey, her thrusters pushing against the ocean and miraculously keeping the entire ship aloft.

Then, from her hull, a new shadow emerged, spreading out from the hull, joined by the low drone of a thousand engines like a swarm of angry hornets.

"I dunno, Greg." Gobber sighed as he watched the Dragonoids fill the sky and blot out the sun. "Maybe 'e just knew better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes
> 
> The Council Chamber scene was another of those sequences that I envisioned early in development, and has stuck with me until it was put to digital paper. I think I think it came into being around Section 07, when I started to diverge from the main plot into more original elements, and it came about when I realised how much updating to a modern setting had changed certain character roles. In HttyD, Stoick's word is law, and everyone else follows him no question. Here, Stoic is a high up on the military ladder, but still has the civilian parliament to deal with. Writing this scene also influenced a lot of the changes that you'll see as the finale plays out.
> 
> Sarah 'Waif' Andrews is a strange little character, in that she was created for a one shot appearance in Section 04 as something to show that Gobber was in the middle of debriefing. She's been referenced a couple of times since, mostly fame-crushing on Alex, so when it came to getting Ruusaan released from prison, she seemed like a good fit to help the scene move through quickly. Alex's side of this chapter is about mixing up the status quo, so to go through a shoot out as I originally planned, even if we just ended up with wounded, felt like the contrast with Stoic's side of things would fall a little flat.
> 
> I don't think I've talked about the Mobile Fortresses, have I? Mobile Suit Gundam gave me a certain fascination with the 'land battleship' concept, and they were introduced into Dragonoid as a potential platform for future battles. At the time of concept, back in Section 03, I wasn't sure if the battles involving them would take place at land or sea, so the creation of a single vessel capable of travelling across both terrains seemed to solve the problem. The Cerberus-class was primarily inspired by Big Tray-class land battleships from Mobile Suit Gundam, while the Saint George-class was inspired by the Heavy Fork-class land battleship seen in Mobile Suit Gundam MS IGLOO 2: The Gravity Front. The Assault Frame transports were inspired by the Theta-class AT-AT barge as it was seen in the video game Star Wars: Empire at War and the Y-85 Titan dropship, also from the Star Wars Expanded Universe.
> 
> In earlier drafts, Saint George was called the Odin, with her sisters being the Thor and Loki. While this was more a reference to HttyD's Vikings rather than Marvel superheroes, I felt the theme naming of dragon slayers was more appropriate considering their debut was going to be in the final battle.
> 
> Gobber not calling Stoick out on the way to the Dragon's Island was a bit of a sore spot for me when watching the movie back. Previous scenes had shown that Gobber had Stoick's ear (Hiccup wouldn't have been in Dragon Training if he didn't), so that he didn't even try to sway Stoick here, even if he'd failed, was something of a missed opportunity I think, and I've tried to show how I might have liked the scene to go here.
> 
> That's all for today. See you next time!


	14. Section 013: To The Last Battlefield

**SECTION 013**

**TO THE LAST BATTLEFIELD**

The battle was going well.

Every able pilot was deployed, the enemy scattered in their wake. Fires raged, energy and plasma were exchanged with bullets and shells and for the first time in centuries, Beskar'ad, the machines the Humans called Dragonoids, filled the skies and blotted out the sun.

And to Zearaan, watching it all unfold from the command centre aboard the  _Ruus beh Tsad Droten_ , it was glorious.

The appearance of the Human's fleet was unexpected, but not unwelcome. To crush the enemy forces away from their home ground spoke well for the operation as a whole. Below the  _Ruus_ , the Humans were scattered across the beaches, the sands littered with the twisted remains of their warships and pale beskar'ad imitations. That they had managed a defence at all might have been admirable, had it not been for the sheer futility of it all.

**"Are we in position?"**

**"In time, High Superior,"** his aide simpered at his side.  **"As we are not within visual range, compensations have to be made for gravity and planetary curvature-"**

**"How long?"**

**"N-not long, High Superior. A few moments more and then we can deploy."**

**"A few moments more…"**  Zearaan pondered, then sent the aide away as he turned back to the battle. He could wait a few moments more, he decided. After all, what were mere moments compared to the three hundred Earth years he had waited already?

* * *

_DATE: JANUARY 15, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1422 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, NEWQUAY RUINS, CMF_  SAINT GEORGE _, COMMAND CENTRE_

He was dreaming. He had to be. He must have fallen asleep at his desk again, that had to be it. This was a dream, or a nightmare; memories of  _Dauntless'_  fall plaguing his mind. It  _had_  to be a dream. He couldn't be watching his ship burn again, it just wouldn't be fair!

But life wasn't fair, and Stoic knew he wasn't dreaming.

 _Saint George_  had been grounded under the weight of the first barrage; her prow crushed into the muddying waters of Newquay's beaches, her powerful weapons disabled. It was a gentler fate than that of  _Beowulf_ ; exploding into a fireball of heat and shrapnel before her Assault Frames could even be deployed. The rest of the fleet was faring no better. Mobile fortresses were scattered and devoid of formation, their Assault Frames struggling to find cover amidst the ruined buildings and skeletal wreckage of their fallen brethren, all the while trying to return fire against an unrelenting enemy.

Even with the command centre in flames and darkness; lit only by sparking consoles and flickering fire and many of their comrades dead at their stations, the remains of  _Saint George's_  command crew tried to regain control, both of the battlefield and the dying ship around them. And in the middle of it all, Gergorio sat alone, the shouted reports and screams for orders falling on deaf ears. For what could they do? They couldn't push forward, and they certainly couldn't fall back. Even if they somehow made it back to home turf, nothing in The Dome's arsenal would be able to scratch the  _Ruus beh Tsad Droten._ Even if the mass drivers had been repaired, Stoic knew they would have been torn to pieces by the sheer numbers of Dragonoids before their carrier had crested the horizon.

It was hopeless. They were all dead man walking. Even the people of The Dome wouldn't be safe. It was merely a matter of time.

"Gregorio!"

Heavy hands latched onto his shoulders, Gobber's soot and scarred face dominating his view.

"Fergus…" he could barely hear his whispered words over the destruction around him. "Fergus, what have I done?"

"Not gonna lie, ye've fooked up real good, boyo," Gobber's words stung less than they should. "At least if we were 'ome, we'd 'ave gotten a warning they were comin'. But now's no' the time ta be moanin'. We need ta retreat n' regroup-"

"Retreat?" Stoic laughed hollowly, "retreat to where? There's nowhere to run, Gus. The Dragonoids would beat us to The Dome before we could even get halfway home."

"Better ta die tryin' than stickin' round 'ere to be slaughtered," the grip tightened, the flesh and blood arm crushing his arm just as hard as the cybernetic one. "The Dome's lost, fine, but it's people ain't! The Dome is just a mess o' machinery and flexi-steel. Tha' means it can be rebuilt! The lives within it can't. We 'ave ta try an' escape ta warn 'em, fer their sake-"

A roar from beyond the broken windows drained his friend's face, Gobber's form slumping with a defeated sigh as he turned towards the intruder.

"Or we could all die tagether, I guess tha' could work too."

Gregorio couldn't find it in himself to be afraid. A Gronckle hovered before  _Saint George,_  its wings filling the air with heat and noise, its plasma mortar bathing the command centre in a brightening purple glow.

Some faced death with dignity. Others tried to run, for all the protection the bulkhead doors would provide. For Stoic, he just stared the Dragonoid down, refusing to give the monster the pleasure of screams or begging. Gobber, to his credit, stood at his side, a meaty arm around his shoulder and a wry smile creasing his scarred face.

"Death by Gronckle," he muttered, "what an embarrassing way ta go."

The noise became deafening, the light blinding him from seeing his own death. And yet Gregorio McKrillen stared his death down to the very end…

Until the plasma mortar exploded.

He heard it, rather than saw it; the clattering of a hundred energy pulse bolts slamming into alien metal. Light dissolved into spots on his vision in time to see the Gronckle stagger back, its' plasma mortar dripping slag and trailing smoke as it struggled to face its' attacker.

Its' enemy never gave it the chance. A green blur screamed past it, the Gronckle's port side wings practically splintering under the pulse bolt barrage, sending the Dragonoid crashing to the ground in a crumpled heap while it soared into the sky.

"Wha' in the world?" Gobber rubbed his eyes as Stoic stared at the battlefield quickly starting to change. "Report, someone! Something tha' isn't terrified screaming!"

"We've got incoming from the rear," Ernest Kingston coughed from somewhere behind him. "Ten, fifty…two hundred and fifty-seven units, all airborne…"

"What? What is it man?" Stoic felt Gobber leave his side. "Ye reading off a screen, it cannae be tha' hard!"

"These units are airborne, and they're generating Dragonoid-type engine signatures, but sir…they're broadcasting Military Police IFFs."

The silence might have been palpable, had the sounds of war not been so close at hand. On any other day, when the command centre wasn't ablaze and the last bastion of Humanity was fighting its' final battle, Gregorio might have laughed and had the sensors recalibrated. There was no way in hell Humans had taken to the skies once more. Two and half centuries of Dragonoid suppression had seen to that. And yet, the vehicles that soared overhead were not of Human design.

They had all been doused with military green paint, no doubt to distinguish them from their brethren. Even now Stoic could see streaks of each machine's original colour breaking through the coat and the hastily stencilled symbol of The Dome emblazed on their sides. They were the same machines though; the same machines they were fighting, or had been fighting in the past.

Dragonoids roared overhead. Dragonoids with what must have been Human pilots at their controls. They aimed their guns towards The Dome's enemies, the land units deployed with turrets facing away from the mobile fortresses. For a moment the guns were silent, Humans and Dragonoids alike united in a moment in their confusion. It gave Stoic all the time he needed to look up to the heavens, where his saviour now circled overhead.

It was a Nadder, that much was obvious. Blue armour already streaked through the green paint, no doubt from the speed the craft had taken to get here. But it was what was attached to the fuselage that got Gregorio's attention.

Bodies. Live ones. Black Human-sized smudges each fastened to a side of the Nadder's head.

No, one was Human-sized. The other was a little taller…

Without thinking, Stoic snatched his binoculars from around his neck. The Nadder wasn't moving at top speed, making it easy for his eyes to track. He could see the bodies clearly now, both connected to the Dragonoid by a safety harness attached to the embarkation ladder. The Human sized one was encased in an old military HALO jumpsuit, a relic of the times before the assault frame was even a dream in its' maker's mind and the nations of Earth still knew how to fly the skies. The kit had been stripped down to the heat retaining jumpsuit, its helmet, life support and manoeuvring units strapped and sealed to the AF pilot's armour the body wore over it. That seemed to be more protection than their companion, their loose black jumpsuit flapping in the wind between heavy armoured plate across their lanky frame, a hurried patch spread over most of their helmet's visor…

"No…he couldn't have…"

It was a trick, it had to be. And yet, anger welled in the pit of his gut the longer he stared. He knew that body, too tall and lanky to be any kind of Human being. He knew it was supposed to be chained to a chair in Central Tower's detention centre, just as the armour and helmet it wore should have been sent to the Research and Development labs to be picked apart by his engineers when they returned victorious.

The Dragonoid pilot. There was no one else it could be. The Dragonoid pilot was roaming free once more, which meant the Human hanging from the Nadder's side could only be one person.

"Alexander."

* * *

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, NEWQUAY RUINS AIRSPACE_

"I was right! I was  _so_  right, Astrid! This is  _exactly_  as bad as I thought it would be! Maybe worse!"

Everything was noise and pressure, the wind roaring past my helmet even as it tried to rip me from the Nadder's side. At least the suit made it warmer than the last time I was flying a Dragonoid on the wrong side of its' armour.

Above and below, the battle was starting up again. The forces of the  _Rock of The Assembled_ , no doubt ordered on by Zearaan, continued to fire on the Human forces, the Military Police having no choice but to fight back. Now, however, they had another problem to worry about.

We'd scavenged every Dragonoid we could from the Arena hangers. If it could walk or fly, fire a weapon of any kind and had the power to do most of the above, it had been drenched in green paint from the military stores and assigned a pilot with a crash course in flying alien mecha and a Human build AI for backup. From Nadders to Nightmares, Gronckles to Zipplebacks, even older models like the Thunder-drum and the Timber-jack flew in our ranks. No one was perfect; even Astrid needed the AI just to fly in a straight line. But we didn't need to be good. We just had to be distracting.

And didn't we have the right people for the job?

Snotlout led the charge, of all people, his Nightmare leading squadrons of our fastest flyers across the skies in hit and run attacks. Behind him, Fishlegs led anything with a plasma mortar or equivalent on bombing runs across the beaches squeezed into his Gronckle, keeping the Dragonoid's land forces separated from our own and clearing the way for the Thornston twins leading the ground attack in their Zippleback and cackling madly over any open frequency they could find.

And high above, watching it all through a Nadder's all-seeing RaDOME, Astrid brought order to the chaos we'd created.

Orders were sent, and the children of the Military Police's mandatory service program responded. Slowly but surely, we were pushing the Dragonoids back and creating a rift between the opposing forces.

This was why she'd been picked for squad leader. This was what the brass had wanted to mould her into after her father's death. This was why she would have been top of our class if I'd never shot Ruusaan down. I wish I could have seen how she did it, and not just because I wanted to be inside the Nadder's cockpit rather than strapped to the side of it. I certainly couldn't have been able to adapt the way she had.

Not with the appearance of the  _Rock of The Assembled_  anyway. The plan had been a work in progress from the start. Pilot Dragonoids, catch up to the  _Saint George_  fleet, recapture the Night Fury and answer the question. That we'd found Dad fighting Dragonoids was bad enough. That he was fighting their now-flying home was beyond anything we could have prepared for.

And yet somehow, Astrid was turning the tide-

_"Stow your whining, Hiccup! It'd be hard enough trying to pilot this thing without two extra pairs of elbows in my way!"_

_…_ when she wasn't being so  _incredibly_  supportive.

"Stowing it, Valkyrie."

 _"See that you do. The plan hasn't changed, right? You have to stay focused unless you want to be a red stain on_ Saint George _'s windshield."_

 _"What's left of it,"_ Snotlout snickered from somewhere.

Yeah,  _incredibly_ supportive.

I risked another look down, at  _Saint George_  burning on the beachhead, one of her bows stuck pathetically half submerged in the water. I suppose it could have been a comfort. After all, the waters were far deeper around Washington Crater.

_"Hallex."_

I glanced over to Ruusaan, or at least where she'd be on the other side of the Nadder's head. "You okay? Copaani gar jate?"

She'd been quiet since she'd seen the  _Rock_. It had been months. Maybe she'd thought she'd never see it again.

_"Dalyc nuhaatyc ar_ _olar."_

Can't be here? No kidding! The  _Rock_ had barely looked like it would fly again back at Washington Crater. Now it looked like the slightest wind would knock it out of the sky. And while it was armed to the teeth, not a single turret or missile launcher was firing. Was it using all that power to stay in the air? Then why bring the  _Rock_  at all? It wasn't as though Dragonoids needed a carrier to get here. Then there was the population. Had they been dropped off before departing, or were they hiding in their homes and waiting for the battle to be over? We couldn't know for certain. That's why we'd stayed clear of her so far and put an emphasis on keeping the Dragonoids and Humans separate while we freed the Night Fury and answered the question.

The question that, with almost the entire Dragonoid population possibly within hearing range, might just bring an end to this war.

"You can stay, you know," I said quietly. "Gar liser k'oyacyi. I won't force you to-"

_"Hy vant it to end."_

…

"What?"

 _"Var. Fightink. Hy vant it to schtop."_  I wish I could see her face, help her convey what she wanted to say in her own language.  _"Tsad Droten. Hwumans. Ve vork together. Hallex und Ruusaan schow dat. Ve...prosper?"_

"I'd like to think so. Staabi redo." As good as word as any.

 _"Prosper…iz gud. Ben gud fer us."_  I could almost see the fond smile on her face. _Schould be gud fer everyvun."_

"Should be good," I felt a grin of my own spread as I gripped the safety cord, "bar tome, mhi mav gotal'ur bic banar. Valkyrie, we're ready to depart."

_"Copy that. The rear AF hatches are still open, so that will be your best entry bet. You drop in sixty. Rho Flight, Lambda Flight, let's make sure they get down in one piece."_

This was it. Around us, Dragonoids in military green paint swarmed, clearing the way down to the burning wreck below. I steeled myself, ignoring the butterflies in my gut as my heads-up display counted down.

And yet, I felt I had to ask.

"Ruusaan?"

_"Elek?"_

"Are you scared? Err…Copaani gar chaab?"

To my surprise, a soft laugh crackled over my helmet's speakers.

_"Aht ar chaab la aht kar'taylir gar copaani oyacyir."_

"W-what?"

_"To be scared iz to know hyu are alive."_

I don't know why, but I think Ruusaan took comfort in those words. And because of that, in some small way, so did I.

_"Aht te kyrbej diende, Hallex."_

I grinned as the countdown hit zero and I released the safety clip from the Nadder's side.

"Aht te kyrbej, Ruusaan. To the  _last_ battlefield."

* * *

 _LOCATION: ENGLAND, NEWQUAY RUINS, CMF_  SAINT GEORGE

" _Attention all hands, attention all hands. Abandon ship, abandon ship. All hands to the airlocks and emergency craft. This is not a drill. Repeat, all hands abandon ship."_

Stoic barely heard the sound of his comm. officer shakily relay orders over  _Saint George_ 's intercom. He barely heard the alarms overhead, just as he'd barely heard Gobber shouting after him as he'd left the command centre. All he could really hear was the thud of his own footsteps against the deck, and the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

Dragonoids in the air and a Dragonoid at his side, and Alexander was in the centre of it all. Now he was aboard  _Saint George,_ and it could be for only one reason.

That was why he strode towards the cargo bay, pushing through anyone who got in his way. He had to beat him there, had to stop Alexander's madness before it spread beyond the mandatory service units.

He had to stop him, by any means.

The Night Fury's cargo bay was located in the bow section now half sunk in Newquay's bay. Personnel were non-existent by the time he reached it, his boots slogging through a river of saltwater that rushed down the now sharply tilted deck. And yet, for a section that should have already been abandoned, Stoic could hear voices echoic in the empty corridors.

The words were distorted, both by the emptiness and the occasional rumble of the battle beyond the bulkheads. But Gregorio would recognise his son's voice anywhere, and he knew that it came from the cargo bay door forced open ahead.

With pistol raised, Stoic stepped through.

Most of the bay was a flooded mess. Crates and stacks of boxes had been torn from their moorings, the lighter ones floating in the pool that submerged half the slanted room. The Night Fury itself had only made it halfway across the deck, its' rear barely touching the water below the thrusters assembly. And standing before it, helet under his arm and looking at this monstrous machine like an annoying car that refused to start, was the last person that should ever be near it.

"ALEXANDER!"

To his credit, Stoic had to admire his boy's fight or flight instincts.

Alex dove for cover rather than turn around, his father cursing his own soft headedness as a bullet meant to disarm cracked through empty air.

"Did you really just try to shoot me!?"

"Did you really expect anything less!?" the general crouched his mass behind cover, his pistol aimed at the crate where Hiccup hid. "You're a traitor, Alex. I can't treat you any different!"

"Why, because the alternative is better?" Brown hair bobbed up above the crate, only to duck back down as a bullet pinged off the metal container. "Is endless war really what you want? Is it going to solve anything?"

"IT'S BETTER THAN THE ALTERNATIVE!  _Peace!?_  With these monsters!?" Eyes stung, his chest throbbing painfully with every heartbeat. "After everything they've done? They've killed so many of us-"

"And we've killed so many of the-"

"IT'S NOT THE SAME!"

"HOW IS IT NOT THE S-"

"THEY KILLED MY WIFE!"

Silence. Stoic glared at Alexander's hiding spot, pistol aimed, ready for the next sighting of his son. In the quiet, the Night Fury thrummed to life, steam rising as the Dragonoid pilot warmed up the thrusters against the water. A smokescreen. It had to be.

"They killed my wife. They killed your mother." the words were softly spoken, yet they seemed to carry across the bay. "Can you really forgive them for that? Of all the deaths they've caused, all the damage they've done, can you honestly side with her killers?"

"Ruusaan didn't kill Mum-"

"But it serves those that did! You say that its' different, but can you really be so sure? Look at our history; look at what they did to Humanity, to  _us!_  How can you forgive what did, what they took away from us!?"

More quiet, filled now with the sound of the Dragonoid's engines and the bubbling of boiling water. Stoic aimed high, ready for Alex and anything that his boy could do…

"Except they didn't kill her, did they?"

His heart stopped, his blood turned to ice as eyes widened at his boy slowly standing up from his hiding place. He stared stonily at his father, unarmed yet defiant.

No…no, no, no. He couldn't know…

"You know, Astrid hated me for years. Did you even notice?" Alex looked towards the Night Fury almost thoughtfully, the gun aimed at his chest ignored. "I still remember the fight, the look of sheer disbelief when I told her what I knew. What I'd seen in your reports to the brass."

"A-Alex-"

"She shouted and screamed, called me a liar among other things," his son laughed hollowly, the sound clenching at Stoic's heart more than any Dragonoid ever had. "She would tell me later that it was because it was easier to hate Dragonoids then believe my theories and things I'd said I'd 'heard'," He turned back to his father, and to Stoic's horror he felt himself flinch back under his gaze, "but I think, at the time anyway, that she couldn't imagine  _why_  I'd say those things. These terrible stories of conspires and cover-ups that I'd read in my father's reports."

"Alex, stop-"

"Valka McKrillen was the Control Officer for the  _Paladin_  when she left the docks. Arthur Hofferson chose her because she could make a mobile fortress  _dance_  if she had to. She was there, in the Command Centre, when it was torn apart from the inside out. A reactor breach, from the bomb the insurgents planted, remember?  _Human_  insurgents, Dad!"

Gregorio's mouth was dry, his throat closed up. Alex kept talking, spilling secrets he had no right to know.

"I mean, it's hard to swallow right? To try and convince someone that it was Humans who killed her father and the Military Police covered it up, when my own mother was killed in the same attack and my father was leading the investigat-"

"ENOUGH!"

His hands were shaking, eyes wide with fury and madness as his pistol rattled in his grip. And Alex, he just stood there, no fear or challenge in his eyes. If anything, he looked…disappointed.

"Don't judge me!" Stoic spat. "Don't you  _dare_  judge me, Alexander! I did what I had to for peace within The Dome. It's bad enough we have the Dragonoids breathing down our necks, but if word got out Hofferson had been set up by his own kind-"

"They'd what? Think we're not so different? Give peace a chance?" Alex snapped back. "That justifies everything, does it? The secrets, the lies, the things you said to Astrid…" his eyes narrowed, "your promotions?"

"It had to be done, and I made sure it never had to be done again!" A strained smile creased Stoic's face. "I worked my way up the ranks to  _stop_  the cover-ups, to stop the manipulations-"

"But not to stop the war?"

The smile disappeared into a scowl. "There can be no peace. Not with those monsters."

"So you're no better than them, are you!?" Alex threw his hands up in exasperation. "The brass before you wanted war, to keep the status quo, and now you're just following in their footsteps!"

"You can't parley with these-"

"BULLSHIT! I've been to the  _Ruus_ , remember?" his eyes became soft and distant, a quiet smile playing across his lips. "I've seen them, Dad; normal people living out their lives. I didn't see a single pair who were exactly alike. Sure, there were some who still wanted to fight, but there were so many more who wanted peace-"

"LIAR! THEY'RE NOTHING BUT MURDEROUS MONSTERS!" Blood pounded in Stoic's ears, his rage aimed solely at the traitor before him. "THEY KILLED MY WIFE! THEY KILLED YOUR MOTHER! THEY'VE KILLED BILLIONS BEFORE HER AND THEY'VE KILLED THOUSANDS SINCE! THEY ARE DEMONS! A BANE OF OUR EXISTENCE! AND HUMANITY WON'T BE ABLE TO THRIVE AS LONG AS EVEN ONE IS LEFT ALIVE!"

"And that's what you want is it!?" the traitor thundered back. "A fight to the last man!?"

"IT'S THE ONLY WAY TO SURVIVE! THE ONLY WAY TO MOVE FORWARD!"

"The only way?"

"The  _only_  way."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Yes!"

The traitor smirked. "Absolutely certain?

_"Will you li-"_

"YES! YES! A THOUSAND TIMES, YES!"

…

…

Why was he still smiling?

_"Acknowledged, and thank you."_

The Night Fury's voice cut through his anger.

Horror and realisation crashed down on him. "No, wai-!"

Blue light erupted from the Dragonoid's cameras, Gregorio crying out in pain and alarm as it reflected off the steam and blinded him into a hazy white world. Stoic howled in equal parts raw fury and despair, firing blindly at the sounds of footsteps that clattered around him.

The cargo bay was filling with new noises; Roars from the Night Fury, sparks and bangs from  _Saint George's_  electronics, his own half-crazed screams as he fired blindly until his gun emptied its' magazine.

And then, silence.

He was on the ground, water up to his torso, one finger still twitching against a useless trigger. Stoic blinked furiously to his vision of spots and splotches of colour…

And yet, as his sight cleared and his hearing returned, a part of Gregorio wished he had stayed in the world of shade and silence.

A Dragonoid stood shrouded in the mist, one of the aliens themselves rather than their damned machines. It appeared to be male, its' lean body made of the blue light projected from the Night Fury's cameras and sized to be the largest thing in the room. It looked almost Human. The design of its' suit and turtleneck might have seemed eccentric, and his dark pony tailed hair might have looked a few centuries out of fashion, but still, a figure easily mistaken for a normal, albeit large and lanky Human being. It was its' face, however, that betrayed its' true nature. Slit pupiled eyes, sunken into his head just enough to be noticeable, ridged of bone where his ears should have been, and of course, a mouth full of knives when it smiled.

And yet, when it smiled, it smiled warmly. It held its' arms out to an invisible audience before the Night Fury's head, where the person who had answered its' infernal question was supposed to stand. Then it bowed, hands coming before its chest to clasp together in greeting.

 _"My greetings to you,"_ it spoke in perfect English from both the Night Fury and  _Saint George's_  speakers.  _"I am High Superior Gadarrl, Child of Hevaan and Miiraal. This I give freely to you. Once, I led my people. And now, I beg you, listen to their story."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Copaani gar jate?"  
> (Are you fine?)
> 
> "Dalyc nuhaatyc ar olar."  
> (She can't be here.)
> 
> "Gar liser k'oyacyi."  
> (You can stay.)
> 
> "…Staabi redo…"  
> (Right word)
> 
> "Bar tome, mhi mav gotal'ur bic banar."  
> (And together, we will make it happen.)
> 
> "Elek?"  
> (Yes?)
> 
> "Copaani gar chaab?"  
> (Are you scared?)
> 
> "Aht ar chaab la aht kar'taylir gar copaani oyacyir."  
> (To be scared is to know you are alive.)
> 
> "Aht te kyrbej"  
> (To the battlefield.)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> Not much to say today, mostly because the battle's spread out over three chapters and I sort of want to see people's reactions without any potentially spoiler-y input from me (I believe "Death of the Author" is the trope I have in mind. Not "Author Existence Failure" though, that's something entirely different.)
> 
> It's kind of scaring me that I've only got three more chapters to upload. This story has been a part of my life for the best part of a decade, so to see it nearing the end is exciting as well as daunting.
> 
> Anyway, See you next week!


	15. Section 014: Red Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that today's chapter is a day late. Some things happened yesterday (nothing drastic, just distracting) and I just ran out of time. Sorry to have kept you waiting.

**SECTION 014**

**RED DEATH**

Gadarrl.

His face was on every monitor, his body projected from every holoemitter. Every speaker and intercom spoke his words and across the battlefield, every Beskar'ad broadcast his signal both visually and audibly, inside and out.

And all Zearaan could do was watch.

 _"I do not know how long it has been since these words were recorded,"_  he spoke the trade language of the Humans, yet the message's translation matrix made his words plain for anyone to hear,  _"but then, I suppose I will not know a great many things. Who are you, who listens? How much did the United States of America tell you before the Fall? Did they share our stories? Did they tell you of the wars of our world, of our flight into space? Did they tell you of the sanctuary we found in the orbit of your world, the sanctuary that they gave us? Or is our legacy solely that we are monsters from the stars?"_

 **"Cut the transmission."**  Zearaan glared at the aide when he was met with fearful silence.  **"Cut the transmission!"**

**"We can't! The communication system is locked!"**

And so, Gadarrl continued to speak.  _"To my brethren, Tsad Droten, I can imagine their anger to be labelled as such. It is my hope that the story of the Fall has been passed down. However, it is my expectation that eyes have been shadowed. The story may have become incomplete, perhaps through the passing of time, perhaps through the manipulations that paved the path to political power-"_

The holoemitter exploded into a spray of sparks and debris, Gadarrl's smiling face flickering out of existence amidst the surprised cries of Zearaan's nearest subordinates. The High Superior glared at the emitter, his energy blaster whining as its' battery recharged its' lost shot and Gadarrl's face and voice continued to be broadcast elsewhere.

 _"First, what I expect to be passed down. Fifty Earth-standard years following our entry into your planet's orbit, a solar flare threatened our existence."_ The images changed; a basic map of the Sol system filling the screens as Gadarrl continued.  _"It was unpredicted, both by Human and Tsad Droten minds alike. As it was, time was not our ally that day. It was left to me to make a choice, and it was I that made the decision that set us all on this path."_ On the screens, the sun flared. It pulsed a blinding white, sending out a fiery wave in all directions. The monitors shifted again, and the satellite footage Zearaan had seen a thousand times before began to play. Footage of the  _Ruus_  breaking orbit, putting herself between the Earth and the star that it orbited. Her shields flared as the light engulfed her, explosions blossoming from the hull before the image devolved into static.  _"We paid a great price in the name of defence. Great damage befell our home, and I am sure most of it has remained known. Lives were lost, our engines were crippled and we were faced with a forced planetary landing. Had the loss of life and engines been our only problems, perhaps both our races may have travelled a different path? Perhaps we might have even travelled the same path together. But amongst the_ Ruus _' failing systems was the one that could have saved us, and the one whose failure I fear has since been shaded from my brethren's eyes: the communication array."_

A murmur spread across the tiers of the Command Centre. Subordinates looked uncertainly at each other, speaking in rushed whispers as their monitors and holoemitters flashed with new data. Damage reports, after action reports, repair reports, Zearaan saw them all and remembered each one. Those he has filed, and those he had discarded.

 _"Can you imagine it?"_  Gadarrl continued, unaware of the rising chaos he was creating from beyond the grave.  _"The sight of a vessel the size of the_ Ruus beh Tsad Droten _falling to Earth, wreathed in fire, all attempts to ask why met with silence? Is it any wonder that the Humans of the past reacted the way they did? With fire of their own?"_

Again, the screens changed, and with it came a bolder voice of outcry. Footage of the  _Ruus_ ' fall from orbit played, interspersed with scenes of the Humans' panicked reactions and overlayed with their desperate attempts to contact the sinking ship. Gadarrl's message translated their words, and the anger across the tiers only seemed to increase.

It wasn't just in the Command Centre. Across the viewports, Zearaan saw the battle fizzle out. Most of the beskar'ad had ceased their attacks. Those on the ground now crowded around the holograms their fellows projected, while those in the air circled overhead. The Humans were no better. Some were even standing side by side with the Dragonoids they had been trying to destroy not so long ago. And within the  _Ruus_  herself, Zearaan knew Gadarrl's message was being broadcast. He could just picture his predecessor's smug face plastered across the central pillar, transmitted into every home and workplace. Reports were coming in amidst the anger of riots already breaking out in the streets. Just what had that fool unleashed?

" **It's a trick!"**  his aide was wailing, glaring desperately at the masses, his knuckles turning white as he threatened to rip the balcony railing from the floor.  **"A ruse of the Humans! They have our beskar'ad! They have what why need to blind us to the truth, but only if we allow it!"**

A pitifully small cry of agreement was lost in the roar of rage that engulfed it. Zearaan was losing his people. Almost a hundred and fifty cycles of loyalty dismantled in an instant.

Not that it would stop him.

**"Deploy the Ge'tal Kyr'am."**

The aide faltered, his sweaty face paling.

**"H-High Superior, the Ge'tal Kyr'am is still being calibrated. If we are off in our projections-"**

His voice died as Zearaan's fingers wrapped around his neck, a single powerful hand lifting up to meet the High Superior's eyes.

 **"It will be enough,"** Zearaan whispered as his aide's legs twitched uselessly in the air.  **"The weapon is aimed in The Dome's general direction, is it not? Even a glancing blow will be enough to end the Human threat."**

**"B-but sir…o-our forces are still-"**

**"If they are foolish enough to believe the lies of a Human imposter, they can burn with the ones they side with. The loyal know better than to fly into the Ge'tal Kyr'am's path."**

**"B-but-"**

**"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear,"** His grip tightened, the aide's voice devolving into strangled gurgles. **"I have spent over two hundred cycles planning for this day. Every choice, every motion, it has all led to this moment, and I will NOT LET SOME UNREMEMBERED FOOL WHO HAS MOVED ON FROM HIS LIFE STAND IN MY PATH!"**

The aide screamed as he was thrown from the balcony, the noise lost as he dropped down the tiers and fighting broke out amongst the consoles and displays. Zearaan didn't falter. He had no use for those who questioned his orders, and despite Gadarrl's best efforts, there were still some who stayed loyal to him. As some held the traitors off with fists and blasters, others worked furiously at their terminals; overwriting protocols, adjusting programs and bringing the Ge'tal Kyr'am online and making sure it stayed that way.

A grin slashed itself across Zearaan's face as the Ge'tal Kyr'am began its' final deployment countdown. Everything was finally falling into place, but it wasn't enough.

 **"Tsad Droten! Citizens truly loyal to the** _ **Ruus beh Tsad Droten!"**_ he bellowed into his comm. unit, hopefully drowning out Gadarrl's endless blather.  **"Hear my proclamation! Do not be deceived by the lies the Humans have woven. The deceit they have created to shadow your eyes! You must do as I do: Take up your weapons, strike down the traitors! Protect your home from those who would take it from you! Fight, and keep fighting until the Ge'tal Kyr'am engulfs all who oppose us! And to those who still stand when the dust falls, I promise that you will earn more in this life than any incarnation, past or future! So rise up, Tsad Droten! Rise up and be remembered!"**

Roars went up, both in support and defiance. Zearaan ignored them all, striding away from the Command Centre and batting anyone who tried to stop him out of his path. The Ge'tal Kyr'am was active. Now he had to make sure it stayed that way to the very end.

And he couldn't do that here.

* * *

_DATE: JANUARY 15, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1445 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, NEWQUAY RUINS AIRSPACE_

"… _This message is embedded in the irremovable running protocols of every AI programmed by Tsard Droten. Answering the question in the presence of any machine you call Dragonoid, piloted or pilot less, will relay this message to them. It is my hope that this will open eyes and begin us all on a path to peace. It is my last hope, to undo the damage I unwittingly caused and to save my brethren from those who would exploit it. I wish you luck, and farewell."_

Astrid wanted to sigh with relief as Gadarrl's face faded from her monitors. She wanted to lean back and close her eyes and just rest, knowing that the war was over.

Except life could never be that simple, could it?

_"Lies!"_

_"Meg la ibic gehat'ik duse!?"_

_"That's not true! How naive do you think we are!?"_

_"Aruetii!"_

The groups were small but vocal, Humans and Dragonoids alike filling the frequencies with their hate and blindness. In truth, a small part of Astrid could hardly blame them. After all, she was no stranger to finding any excuse to hate the Dragonoids, now was she?

On the ground below and the skies around her, the two once well-defined factions was now splintering into chaotic groups. Most, to Astrid's relief, were sticking together. Humans and Dragonoids clustered in the protective firing arcs of friendly mobile fortresses, some even flying and running with Alex's squads and flights. Even though they were without a translation matrix between them, it seemed to be enough to know an ally was a machine with its' guns facing away from your back.

Others weren't so forgiving. Still separated by species, the non-believers shot at anything that came too close. Some even actively tried to attack those that were trying to stop. Their lack of numbers was the only thing keeping them at bay. The mobile fortresses likewise seemed split amongst the Human centred groups, although there were a fair few even trying to flee the battle altogether, chased by Humans and Dragonoids, either trying to destroy them or follow their example.

Astrid had given standing orders to let them go. They shouldn't waste ammo on those who didn't want to fight.

"Rho Flight, report in. Any sign of Hiccup?"

 _"Fishlegs reporting negative, Valkyrie."_  Patrick responded first, doing well to keep the fear out of his voice.  _"I don't get it. They played the message. They must've gotten to the Night Fury to answer the question, so why-?"_

 _"Uh, Valkyrie?"_  Snotlout cut in uneasily.  _"I think we've got a problem here."_

"Just the one?"

_"Might be a big one. Got a bunch of Dragonoids, the people not the robots, on the line. They don't sound too happy. But not like angry, not happy? They sound scared."_

"Let me hear it."

A chorus of chaos assaulted her ears, a dozen or so voices struggling to be heard over each other. Through the noise, however, she could make out something. Words spoken urgently again and again and again.

"Ge'tal…Kyr'am?"

A low rumble broke through her thoughts, her ribs seeming to rattle against her chest from the noise. The voices of the Dragonoids only became more panicked as the rumble became an outright roar. Even through armour and her own helmet, it now seemed to pierce through it all to her very brain.

And then, through the pain, Astrid saw the cause.

Far below, the  _Rock of the Assembled_  seemed to blossom. The large heavy plates that made up the lower petals separated and folded back along the hull, the four slabs of the third wing at the warship's head rising up like a flower in bloom to project a shield between them. Within the sphere, a new form rose; a pillar of metal, straight from the heart of the  _Rock_. Emitters unfurled at the base of the petals, six in total and three to a side, a purple light slowly turning red as the pillar split in two, forming a pair of pylons.

 _"S-Sarge?"_  Fishlegs whimpered,  _"I-I think we should stop this-"_

"F-focus firepower," she cursed the fear in her voice. "Focus firepower! Concentrate everything you've got against that shield!"

Her Nadder shuddered as the trigger was pulled, her energy bolts joining from Nadders to Nightmares and the plasma mortars of Gronckles and Zipplebacks. The shield shimmered and flared under the barrage, a glare that only grew as the  _Rock's_ own forces turned against her and those at the controls of Assault Frames and mobile fortress guns added their firepower. For the first time since they had met all those centuries ago, Humans and Dragonoids worked together to bring down a common enemy.

And yet the shield held. The  _Rock_  stood firm. Worse, those Dragonoids that stayed loyal defended. Some threw themselves into the firing line, others broke the line itself with hit and run attacks. And through it all, beneath the shield, what had to be the Ge'tal Kyr'am continued to charge, slowly but surely. Arcs of red lightning sparked from the emitters one at a time, three to a pylon. Its' power and light only grew with every passing second and there was nothing to be done to stop it-

_"Gotab!"_

The voice cut through the panic; a voice somehow familiar and the word alien.

Astrid blinked, "G…Gotab?"

 _"Gotab! Lenedat te gotab! Ukoror te_ Ruus _! Gotab!"_

Astrid didn't understand, couldn't understand. She wished Alex was here, both to translate and to comfort. She felt so helpless. She didn't know what to do…

The Nadder shook, a green light pouring into the cockpit from her right. For a moment, Astrid panicked. She wrenched at her controls, tried to pull the Nadder out of the way of what could be an energy attack, only to find herself locked on course.

The Nadder was being held in place, Astrid realised, and the green light wasn't an energy bolt at all. Hesitantly, she looked to her right and found a Night Fury's humanoid head staring back.

Her first thought was Alex and Ruusaan, and with that came relief, but it was followed by a sense of uneasiness, then realisation as her eyes picked out the differences. Alex and Ruusaan had put their Night Fury through the wars even  _before_  its capture and the battle at the Arena. Alex had told her about the first accidental launch into space and the battles with Boneknappers over the ruins of Paris, and she had seen with her own eyes the damage left behind by their fight at Washington Crater. This Fury had seen battle but lacked the worn look of a machine that had been stuck in the British countryside for the winter months. This was a different Fury, a newer Fury…

_"Gotab!"_

…one with a pilot trying to tell her something.

"I'm sorry! I don't understand you! I can't-"

The Fury's head turned away from her, one hand secure against the Nadder's hull as the other pointed its' rifle towards the  _Rock_. Tactical data flowed onto her screens in response. She couldn't read the words, but the target was clear. Outlined in red was one of the three main thrusters nozzles.

"A target? The engines…" her eyes widened. "If we take out one of the main nozzles it will throw the Rock off balance. If we can't stop the Ge'tal Kyr'am from firing, maybe we can stop it from hitting its' target! You want to attack the engines! Err, akaanir gotab elek?"

A relieved laugh was her answer.  _"Elek, majyce emuurir meyg."_

Elek was good enough for her. Already most of the allied Dragonoids were making their attack runs. Even some of the Human units, both assault frames and Dragonoids, were hesitantly following their lead. But it had to be all of them. She opened the channel.

"Attention all units. Focus your firepower on this thruster assembly only." Astrid sent the data. "We need to knock the  _Rock_  off balance before she fires. Throw everything you've got at it!"

Her energy blasters blazed, the Night Fury releasing its' grip and joining her barrage with a hail of energy fire of its' own. Others quickly joined them, Human and Dragonoid together. Bullets, energy bolts, plasma mortars and a slew of other weapons old and new rained down on the thrusters, those that still defended the  _Rock_  now doing little to stop the onslaught.

And yet, the thruster held. Maybe it was built to last. Maybe whatever the nozzle was ejecting was disrupting too many energy bolts and melting too many projectiles. All Astrid knew was that nothing was working, and the noise coming from the Ge'tal Kyr'am was reaching fever pitch.

She had an idea. A horrible, desperate idea. The thruster itself refused to break, but most of the firepower being thrown at it was coming from below. But from Astrid's position; high above the battlefield, she could see where the nozzle connected to the hull. She could see that the metal seemed to flex as the thruster made corrections, both to keep the  _Rock_  afloat and under the weapons' barrage. The sheer size of the nozzle was keeping the weak point safe for now, but with the plates retracted, and if she hit it with the right amount of force…

Astrid gunned the accelerator, dropping the Nadder into a stomach-dropping dive before she could change her mind.

One chance. One shot. Alarms screamed in her ears, drowning out the surprised shouts of Fishlegs, Snotlout and the Night Fury pilot (She vaguely thought she could hear Ruffnut and Tuffnut egging her on).

She had to do this. All other options were gone. Even as she plummeted, she emptied her energy blasters into the joint, only for the bolts to bounce harmlessly off in all directions. But she pushed the Nadder on. Down and down, faster and faster until nothing should have done would have stopped its' descent.

Explosive bolts ripped the roof off the cockpit as Astrid wrenched back the ejection lever, her body crushed into the seat as it was launched into the frigid air and away from the falling Dragonoid. She barely had time to look down before her Nadder hit. Fire and heat erupted as it smashed into the joint, reds and oranges turning to blues and whites as the thruster assembly ruptured.

The effect on the  _Rock_  was instantaneous. As the thruster spluttered smoke and spat spurts of fire, Astrid watched as its fellows tried to pick up the sudden slack and fail miserably. Several of the secondary nozzles exploded as the  _Rock_  careened to one side, the massive vessel doing everything it could to stay in the air and stay on target, only to finally crash pitifully into the bay moments later, a wave of saltwater rippling out to wash over the battlefield as even then it struggled to stay upright…

Then, the Ge'tal Kyr'am fired.

With an ear-splitting roar, a beam of burning red erupted from between the pylons as the shield vanished. It could have engulfed  _Saint_   _George_  and then some, but instead, it split the sky in two as it arced over the beaches. Dragonoids scatted from its' path as it tore through the air, the unlucky few caught in the blast reduced to atoms scattered on the wind. Through squinted eyes and the pain lancing her brain, Astrid watched as the beam disappeared over the horizon, inland. A second sunrise blossomed over the misty hills, the beam dissipating as a target was struck out of sight.

The Dome. The target had to have been The Dome. Astrid wanted to take comfort that the explosion seemed so close. That she could see fire and light, a heavy cloud cresting the horizon, could only mean that the Ge'tal Kyr'am had been off by miles…

And then the shockwave hit.

It cracked through the air, a destructive wall of sound that rushed ahead of a thunderous cloud of debris. Astrid screamed only for a moment as the wave struck the back of the cockpit seat, the air forced from her lungs as the ejection jet exploded beneath her.

And then she was falling. The chair left her back as great clouds of debris hide everything from her view. She was spinning, flailing, the sky and the ground becoming a single blur as she struggled to break against the roaring wind. Astrid vaguely thought she saw the  _Rock_  fall, toppling over into the ocean in the face of the blast it created. Astrid couldn't be sure, couldn't think, couldn't see beyond the end of her nose (and wasn't  _that_  ironic?). She tried to even out her fall, push her face into the oncoming wind, tried to slow her descent by spreading out her limbs for all the good it would do. Even hitting the water at this speed would have made it as soft as concrete. At least she couldn't see it coming. She closed her eyes and tried to smile, filling her thoughts with Alex and the people she hoped she had saved before she hit the ground…only to hit it a lot sooner than she had expected.

Cool metal touched her face, her body bumping against a hard metallic surface before she finally rested against it. Machinery groaned in her ears as she rolled onto her back, opening her eyes blearily in time to see the floor rise up and curl around her like the fingers of a giant hand.

A giant mechanical hand.

_"Did we get her?"_

Astrid's voice caught in her throat as a bright green visor stared at her, upside down, Alex's voice so wonderfully loud in her ears. He was alive. Alex was here and he was alive.

"I'm okay," she croaked, "I'm okay, Alex."

He probably couldn't hear her, so she gave him a thumbs up, just to be sure.

The Night Fury's shoulders seemed to sag in relief.  _"I got here in time. The Fury wouldn't take off until the message finished transmitting, and Dad-"_

Astrid shook her head with a smile. He was here, and the Ge'tal Kyr'am had been rendered useless. That was all that mattered now.

Until fire and noise roared up from the debris cloud.

Metal on metal, thrusters firing, the cloud billowed as something awoke within it, parting them like a curtain in time for Astrid's heart to stop.

Slowly, the Ge'tal Kyr'am rose back into the sky.

As the dust started to settle, it rose out of it like an island on a sea of mist. The entire top half of the  _Rock_  has detached. The petals spreading out below the weapon, the thrusters now able to keep the lighter load aloft. As it continued to rise, Astrid saw the Ge'tal Kyr'am had extended down into the  _Rock_ , the column narrowing to a point two miles down. Lights pulsed upwards as the emitters began to glow once more. It was a small condolence that the shield hadn't activated this time. Perhaps whatever powered the Ge'tal Kyr'am didn't have the strength to fuel both weapon and defence. Or perhaps whoever flew the weapon thought its' newest defence would be more than enough.

The last of the loyal Dragonoids flanked the Ge'tal Kyr'am on all sides, both on the ground and in the air. They numbered around two hundred in all, a wide enough variety of machines amongst them to mount a serious defence. At its' heart, however, hovering above the Ge'tal Kyr'am's pylons, a new machine entered the battle.

A Night Fury watched over the conflict, but that was only at first glance. A second look showed a mech slightly larger than the one that held her; one locked into its' humannoid form. Its' armour was heavier, cast in royal purple and bristling with weapon hardpoints: Missile launchers mounted to the lower legs, retractable blades mounted at the wrists, an extra pair of collapsible plasma energy cannons mounted to either side of the waist, the cannons mounted to the back now twin-barrelled apiece. What was once built for speed and been rebuilt into a mech of massive destruction. Purpose built too. This Dragonoid wasn't an act of desperation.

 _"Zearaan."_  Ruusaan's voice growled, and Astrid had to agree. She could see it in the way it was poised, a rifle in each hand, the way the other loyal Dragonoids seemed to circle and protect it as well as the Ge'tal Kyr'am. Even from what little she'd seen of the High Superior, it seemed so very like him.

_"Astrid, I'm going to have to let you go."_

"Wha-"

The Night Fury dropped into the debris cloud before she could protest, the ground swooping up to meet them in moments. She felt the Dragonoid shudder as it landed. It lay its' hand against the sand, fingers uncurling to let her down.

She didn't want to go. She wanted to climb into the cockpit, join Alex and be at his side in what she hoped would be the final battle. But the Night Fury only had two seats, and while she hated to admit it, Ruusaan was a better fit to be his co-pilot.

In this case anyway.

So she slipped off the hand, doing her best to smile as thrusters roared and the Fury took off once more.

"Go."

Perhaps the word was lost as the Dragonoid transformed and wheeled into the sky. But it was all the encouragement Astrid could give. All she could think to say as Alex disappeared into the clouds.

Go, so he could come back to her all the sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "…Ge'tal Kyr'am…"  
> (Red Death)
> 
> "Meg la ibic gehat'ik duse!?"  
> (What is this story of rubbish?!)
> 
> "Aruetii!"  
> (Traitor!)
> 
> "Gotab!"  
> (Engines!)
> 
> "G…Gotab?"  
> (E…engines?)
> 
> "Gotab! Lenedat te gotab! Ukoror te Ruus! Gotab!"  
> (Engines! Target the engines! Push the Rock! Engines!
> 
> "Gotab!  
> (Engines!)  
> "Akaanir gotab elek?"  
> (Fight engines yes?)
> 
> "Elek, majyce emuurir meyg."  
> (Yes, something like that.)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> I hate writing big battle scenes. I just never seem to be able to convey the scope that I see in my head. I try to make it chaotic, to steal glimpses of a battlefield from various perspectives, but it never seems to be enough for me.
> 
> Anyway, Gadarrl. His message feels like a bit of a cop out to be honest, as originally it was only meant for Human ears. Back in Section 07, I mentioned that originally Alex and Ruusaan were supposed to find a secret Human/Dragonoid colony amid the ruins of Disneyland, and it was here that they were supposed to find allies for the final battle. Remember, for a long time the Dragonoids of the Rock of The Assembled were supposed to be almost completely evil. If anyone rebelled here, they were going to be in the minority. The removal of the scene from Section 07 left me without an ally for Alex, which I think may have also been an influence on Alex and Astrid's adventures with Juuniis, and the 'not-so-different' aesthetic that the Rock took on. As such, when I came to the final battle, Gadarrl's message was the only thing I had to bring in the allies Alex needed. I'm hoping it comes across that Gadarrl was a well respected High Superior, based on the fact so many take the message at face value and rebel, but I'm just not sure how well that came across. I think time was a major enemy here. I know I go on about how it took me seven years to finish Dragonoid, but I do wonder if I'd been on schedule that I might have found another way of bringing everything together.
> 
> As a weapon, the Ge'tal Kyr'am was inspired largely by the Wave Motion Gun from the various incarnations of the anime Space Battleship Yamato, although ironically it's the live action movie version that directly inspires the beam (aside from colour), noise and explosion. I also took some inspiration from an element from the Mortal Engines novel series by Phillip Reeve, but there's a movie coming out next December and I don't want to give away spoilers for what I hope is going to be a good film. The emitters were supposed to invoke the original Red Death dragon's eyes before they turned red.
> 
> This chapter also has another couple of Night Furies show up. As I've said before, I wanted to showcase that Alex and Ruusaan's mech wasn't a one off or an advanced super protoype, except now Zearaan's piloting one that obviously is. That wasn't intentional. Originally, the Ge'tal Kyr'am's second form was supposed to be directly based off of the XMA-01 Lafressia from the anime film Gundam F-91 (something that also inspired the design of the Rock of The Assembled in general), which used combat tentacles as its primary weapon. Zearaan was supposed to have piloted the Ge'tal Kyr'am in this form, but this fell through when I realised the sheer size the Ge'tal Kyr'am would have to be to retain its intimidation factor would make a single pilot look a little ridiculous. I also felt that it wouldn't convey Zearaan's power all that well, especially when compared to the Red Death from the original film. While I could have developed a brand new Dragonoid for him to pilot, I stuck him in a Night Fury because it would be a shape you the reader would recognise, and thus I wouldn't have to interrupt the flow of the chapter as much with the description. The addional weapons were inspired by various mobile suits from various Gundam series. The missile launchers were taken from an optional weapon of the ZGMF-1017 GINN from Gundam SEED, the wrist mounted swords were inspired by the GN-001 Gundam Exia from Gundam 00 and the hip mounted cannosn were taken from the ZGMF-X10A Freedom Gundam, also from Gundam SEED. The additional barrels to the back mounted cannons weren't inspired by anything, I just thought it would make the weapon look overpowered. The decision to give Zearaan's Night Fury purple armour was taken from the Red Death's scale colour. I initially thought just to give it gold accents to differentiate it, Ala the IFX-V301 Gawain from Code Geass, but then I remembered a reviewer from on of the AVATAR fics noting that I tended to use a lot of black in my mecha designs and when with a connection to the original dragon instead.
> 
> That's all for today. Onto the final showdown! See you next time!


	16. Section 015: Final Flight

**SECTION 015**

**FINAL FLIGHT**

_DATE: JANUARY 15, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1525 HOURS_

_LOCATION: ENGLAND, NEWQUAY RUINS AIRSPACE_

So that thing had wings. Time to see if it could use them.

A new battle, the last battle I hoped, had already broken out by the time Ruusaan and I returned to the skies. It was a chaotic mess; the IFF signals useless as those who were loyal to Zearaan fought with those who had rebelled in a mass of red on my radar. Even the Dragonoids we'd borrowed from the arena were mere specs of green. Tactics were worthless and the loyalists knew that. They broke through the ranks, splitting allies apart. They aimed for the mechs doused in green paint, trying their best to destroy potential grouping points. On the ground, it wasn't much better. At least the Assault Frames were distinct enough for the lines to stay drawn.

Meanwhile, the Ge'tal Kyr'am continued to charge. Without the additional power from the  _Ruus_ , what had been a slow charge to begin with had been reduced to a snail's pace. Even with time on our side though, the emitters still began to turn red, lightning already jumping from the first to the pylon. The loyalists kept the worst at bay, and those that got past were forced to face Zearaan's Fury. In more ways than one.

The purple Dragonoid was a monster, keeping away anything and everything. Mechs, missiles, energy bolts and plasma mortars, all were cut down if he entered their path.

I had a horrible suspicion that Zearaan hadn't become Al'verde through political prowess alone.

"Any ideas? Dajun?"

Ruusaan actually laughed. "Naasad vaii mhi k'oyacyi oyacyir."

"A plan with death in it on our end wasn't what I was hoping for." I rolled my eyes. She had a point though. One at a time, multiple at once. Nothing was getting past Zearaan as a defence. But there had to be a way. Something that, if we couldn't beat him with it could at least distract him long enough for someone else to deal with the Ge'tal Kyr'am. We needed a plan.  _Any_ plan. Something crazy.

Something stupid.

The Night Fury roared as I pulled it into a steep climb, Ruusaan crying out in alarm at the sudden acceleration.

"Hallex! Meg copaani gar mirdira!?"

"Majyce di'kutla!" Something  _really_  stupid. "Just get ready to fire okay? Tracyn tion'tuur ni sirbur!"

I heard her mutter something about my brain cell being lonely, but took her relative silence for understanding as I cut the engines high above the battlefield.

The Fury fell, its' nose arcing lazily head over thrusters to the ground as gravity took hold. The Dragonoid dropped like a rock, even before I kicked the thrusters into high gear. Blurs on the beaches below became units in battle once more. If someone was winning, I couldn't tell. All of my focus was on keeping the Night Fury in a straight line. Down, down, down towards the purple blot that quickly became Zearaan's machine.

"Hallex?"

"Hold on." Just a little faster.

"Hallex!"

"Just hold on!" It had to be close. It had to be as close as I dared.

"HALLEX!?"

There. Right there.

Perfect.

"Jii! Tracyn jii!"

A sonic boom thundered across the skies as the Ge'tal Kyr'am filled my screens, Zearaan's Fury dead centre. The purple mech looked up at the noise, in time to see our Fury's plasma energy cannon rain bright blue blasts down upon it. We had him pinned. Move, and the Ge'tal Kyr'am would take a fatal hit. Stay, and Zearaan was in the firing line.

It didn't surprise me at all that the Al'verde stayed where he was.

The Fury's shield came up as the blast hit, energised plasma streaming off in all direction except down. The Ge'tal Kyr'am was safe. Zearaan was safe.

And he never saw us coming.

The Furys' collided at supersonic speeds. Alarms screeched and cameras reduced screens to static under the sudden impact. The control sticks resisted my commands as I tried to pull us out of the dive, not helped by the extra tonnage of Dragonoid now attached to the nose. We cleared the Ge'tal Kyr'am with the barest scrape of metal against metal before we were out into the open sky, engines straining against the weight.

_"You…"_

The voice crackled over the speakers. Low and loud and filled with rage…and speaking perfect English.

 _This beskar'ad…you are the one who escaped the_ Ruus beh Tsad Droten.  _You are the Humans who managed to evade us."_ As the monitors cleared, Zearaan's Fury leaned forward, its' visor filling the cockpit with crimson light.  _"And now you try to evade your fate. The fate of your race. I will not allow it-"_

"Ruusaan! Lose him!"

The vulcan cannons belched energy bolts, a few hundred bouncing in off the enemy's armour before Zearaan pushed us away, no worse for wear.

Should I be surprised? I wasn't so sure. After all, Gadarrl hadn't needed a translation matrix to get his message across. But that had been centuries ago, right? What good was learning the enemy's language if your sole goal was to wipe them out?

I struggled to find my voice. "We know what happened. We all saw the message, right? We could stop the fighting right now if we wanted too. Gadarrl-"

 _"Gadarrl,"_  Zearaan sneered the name.  _"Our most forgetful fool. How could he not remember why we fled our homeworld? How could he forget what his race lived for,_ died _for! How could he not see that we were and still are a race meant to conquer!?"_

The Fury lurched towards us, wrist blades deployed and aiming for the cockpit. I managed to boost clear before it got too close, spinning around to let Ruusaan give Zearaan a barrage of energized plasma. He twisted and turned through the blasts, returning fire and scorching the hull.

"I've seen the  _Ruus_ ," I spat through gritted teeth. "You didn't look all that war-loving to me."

 _"That is because you have seen the weakest of our number. And they number many."_  Zearaan laughed hollowly.  _"Do you think we would have fled our homes if we had been victorious? If we had been strong? No, only the weak flee into the dark. We allowed ourselves to be forced off-world. We allowed ourselves to spend centuries in the void searching for a new home. And when we found this place, did we learn from our mistakes? No! By Gadarrl's order, we stayed our hand. For fifty of your years, we stayed in orbit as nothing but talk was exchanged between Human and Tsad Droten. We had the power to take this world from you. We proved that in the days that followed._ I _proved that!"_

"You?" the cockpit rattled and groaned as I tried to stay ahead of the oncoming fire and give Ruusaan the chance to return it. A quick look behind me showed me what I didn't want to see; that even having apparently got Zearaan's attention, the remaining loyalists were still doing just enough to keep us at bay. All the while the Ge'tal Kyr'am continued to charge. All six emitters now coursed lightning into the pylons and nothing we did seemed to stop it. Even the thrusters were now just as protected as the weapon itself. And Zearaan's words, they bounced around my mind, refusing to leave. The way he talked, it sounded like…

"You were there."

 _"From the beginning."_  I could almost see his prideful grin; splitting his face and all teeth as sharp as knives.  _"I was so young then, born into this life twenty of your years after we made orbit. I grew up learning of what we were and seeing what we had become. And all too soon, I understood Gadarrl's plights were foolishness. I saw that he spat in the faces of his past lives and I knew I had to usurp the defiler. For ten Earth years, I rose through the ranks, gained allies strong and likeminded and power both political and military. And when the solar flare struck, I was given an opportunity to set all Tsad Droten on the right path. And as the_ Ruus' _Chief Communications Officer, I was in the right place to take it!"_

Communications? No. No, it couldn't be…

"You destroyed the communication array?"

 _"And_  your _people did the rest."_  He was getting too close, keeping me too distracted.  _"An alien vessel comes crashing into your world's atmosphere and your first urge is to shoot it down. Perhaps we are more similar than I would like."_ Now there was a sickening thought.  _"It was almost pitiable, watching Gadarrl's attempts to bring an end to the fighting. Perhaps it was a mercy to send him back to the universe."_

"Ibic shabuir linibar aht ash'amur."

I didn't entirely catch what Ruusaan said through gritted teeth, but I probably would have agreed. But whatever he was, Zearaan was shabuir that was winning. Ruusaan couldn't lay a hit on him, and I was doing everything I could to keep our Fury ahead of his. I couldn't even risk a transformation. Who knew if Zearaan would let me shift back when time ran out?

…

Although maybe…maybe that didn't matter.

I had an idea. A horrible, desperate idea. Maybe it would save everyone. Maybe it would just stop Zearaan. Maybe it would just end with me going up in a blazing fireball. All I knew was it was the only way forward that I could clearly see, it was stupid and suicidal and Ruusaan would never go for it.

…

"Ruusaan."

"Meg la te?" she sounded agitated. "Ni vaabir'naas ganar ca'nara aht-"

I smiled slightly. "I need a promise from you. Ni linibar gar'ra miit. You and Astrid. You take care of each other, alright? Hiibir ulur beh solus ashi."

"Meg copaani gar jorhaa'ir? Ni vaabir'naas-"

_"Weapons control: Command Seat Enabled."_

"…Hallex?"

I tried to keep my smile, even as I saw her surprise and confusion reflected in my screens. "Ret'urcye, Ruusaan."

"Halle-!"

She was gone before she could stop me, ejected on my command with a roar of jets and wind, armoured plate slamming shut behind her.

 _"My, a coward leaves the battlefield, or a commander tries to save who he can?"_  Zearaan scoffed.  _"A fruitless gesture either way-"_

He tried to aim, tried to fire. He found my sword in his way, slicing through rifle barrel and power cell, forcing his Fury to drop the weapon before it exploded into fire and shrapnel.

"Oh no you don't," I grinned in the N-Link's light as my Night Fury finished its' transformation. "I'm not done with you yet."

* * *

That idiot! That moron! That jare'la shabuir! Ruusaan would have cursed Alex's name a thousand times if she hadn't thought he would need all the help he could get.

What was he thinking!? What kind of jaro gallantry was he trying to pull!? Already she could see the two Ca'furor fighting, clashing sword against wrist blade, energy bolts exchanged and energized plasma narrowly missed. Ruusaan had to get back to Alex, had to keep him safe before his lonely brain cell got the idiot killed.

And yet, she dropped away from him with every passing moment. The chair's ejection jets were designed to get her to the ground, not back into the fight. She needed another way, a faster way…

Another Beskar'ad.

Through the settling dust, Ruusaan's eyes fell on the  _Ruus beh Tsad Droten._

She had toppled towards away from the beach into the ocean, her head dipping over the horizon, such was her size. Ruusaan didn't want to think about the casualties such a fall had created. Despite this, there were protocols in place for such a fall, and they seemed to have been followed to the letter. Pods were being launched from the hull, some landing in the water and on the beaches, others flying off into the sky to either escape or leave in disgust. Anywhere there was a hatch, outer cargo bay or hanger door not completely underwater, it had been opened to allow boats filled to capacity to be pushed out into the ocean or cargo Beskar'ad to rise up to take survivors to dry land. It wouldn't be too long before the  _Ruus'_  head sank into the deeper waters, possibly dragging the rest of the ship under.

That wasn't what caught Ruusaan's eye, however. One of the hangers had been opened, but no one was trying to escape through it. Maybe no one was close enough, or perhaps the inner doors were blocked with debris that had fallen against them. But it looked to have been a military hanger, or at least a storage facility for spare combat Beskar'ad. Most had been crushed against each other when the  _Ruus fell,_ but at least one had managed to escape. Its armour was dented from the crash and its position, smashed up against the remains of its fellows, would make take off a nightmare. But Ruusaan knew it would fly. She was sure of it. After all,  _her_  Ca'furor was still in the air after everything it had been put through. Why should this one be any different?

* * *

The Night Fury was stuck.

Maybe something had been dislodged. Maybe an energy bolt had seared something it shouldn't have. All I knew was the Fury was stuck in its' Humanoid mode, alarms blaring and the AI screaming  _"Malfunction!"_  over and over every time I tried to change back. And time was running out on all fronts.

As timers warned I had a minute and counting before the N-Link began to feedback, so did the Ge'tal Kyr'am's howls tried to drown out all other noises.

 _"How does it feel, Human?_   _To be at the end of all things?"_  Zearaan's voice goaded as swords locked and sparks flew.  _"Perhaps you feel as though you have accomplished something? Anything? Temporary setbacks, I assure you. With the fall of The Dome, our civilisation will expand and thrive. No more will we have to hide in a single ageing ship. We will spread, we will grow and when the time is right we will go back to the stars, back to the homeworld, and we will show them the power of true Tsad Droten!"_

"Don't think so far ahead," I said through gritted teeth, an ache in my brain starting to form as the timers turned red. "You've got to live through this fight before you think about the next."

 _"Please. I have already lived far longer than any mere Tsad Droten. Medical procedures and chemical therapies, organ replacements, both organic and cybernetic. I will live as long as I need to, Human, to make my people great again."_  His Fury seemed to leer at mine,  _"Which is more than I can say for you."_

The timers hit zero, blinking red urgently as alarms blared in my ears. Pain exploded within my head, surging through my body and setting every nerve on fire. Agony seemed like such a pitiful way to describe it, but it was all I could feel as I screamed, fingers raking at my helmet's faceplate as I tried to claw the pain out.

Zearaan struck the Fury hard, with sword, shield or energy bolt I couldn't tell. All I knew was he sent me flying, sparks burning as screens and circuits overloaded. Again and again, hit after hit, the Fury took the brunt and Zearaan refused to let up. We fell together, Zearaan laying down blow after blow while I was powerless to stop him.

Everything hurt. My mouth tasted of copper and my vision was slowly going red as blood vessels burst in my eyes. This was it. The end. I couldn't stop Zearaan. I couldn't stop the Ge'tal Kyr'am. I couldn't save The Dome. I couldn't-

_"ALEXANDER!"_

A roar ripped through the haze, and a missile from below forced Zearaan way.

The voice…it almost sounded like…

"Dad?"

Through the blood and static, I saw the guns of  _Saint George_  fire once more, blasting a barrage into the sky from whatever was left that could fire. And there, standing amidst the ruins of the Command Centre, General Gregorio 'Stoic' McKrillen worked the controls. He darted from console to console, firing off everything he could before the guns themselves exploded into useless slag.

 _"Don't you dare die before I do, boy!"_  I thought I caught his glare through the cameras as he turned it to Zearaan.  _"And you! You finish your fight with me before you move on to the next generation!"_

_"Impudent bug."_

Zearaan moved, but up into the sky rather than down towards the wreck. The twin-barrelled energy plasma cannons deployed and the Al'verde returned the General's favour.

"Dad…DAD!"

 _Saint George_  was torn to pieces. Armour splintered and magazines exploded, Stoic lost to me in a hail of debris, his startled cry the only way I knew he had survived.

The barrage stopped. Zearaan's Fury glided down to the smouldering wreckage. Dad coughed and wheezed in my ears, a noise I desperately tried to cling to above the pain trying to tear me apart.

 _"I'm…I'm sorry, Alex,"_ he sounded so weak, so tired.  _"I'm sorry, for everything."_

"Dad…don't…"

The smoke was starting to clear now. The roof of the Command Centre had been completely blown away, leaving Stoic's broken, bloodied body exposed to the Dragonoid that landed before it.

Somehow, even as I plummeted to the ground, I seemed to meet my father's gaze. He was barely conscious, caked in dust and blood. But he smiled, even as Zearaaan raised his rifle to him, point blank.

 _"I don't think…you're right."_  his words were a whisper, yet so painfully loud in my ears.  _"Humans and Dragonoids…it'll never work. But…"_  he staggered to his feet, facing down death one final time,  _"you stand for what you believe in. You speak up. You_ fight _for it. I…I can respect that. And for what it's worth…"_  his smile became a grin as white light engulfed him,  _"I'm_  proud _…to call you my son."_

I didn't see him die. Zearaan merely fired, a single energy bolt engulfing the entire Command Centre, reducing my father's body to atoms and scattering them to the wind.

I didn't feel anything. Not pain, not horror. No, that's not true. I felt…cold. I felt it pool in my gut, seep through my veins, envelop me, body and soul. The pain ebbed away, but so did everything else. Fear, horror, disbelief, all of it was drained until only two things were rattling around in my head.

My father was dead, and Zearaan had killed him.

Above me, the N-Link turned white, bathing me in a soft warm glow. My hands, aching and protesting all the way, once more gripped the controls sticks as my feet found the pedals. Something felt…different. Sharper, more refined. Before, the N-Link had allowed me to control the Night Fury. Now, it felt like I could push it to its' limits. And as the computers targeted Zearaan with a passing thought and thrusters pulled me out of my dive without the press of a pedal, I realised I  _was_  feeling something. Something that burned red hot through the cold.

Rage.

* * *

" _ZEARAAN!"_

He barely had time to turn, barely had time to see the Ca'furor bare down on him with sword at the ready and light pouring from every joint and battle scar. The blade sliced through the air where his Beskar'ad had stood, the ground cratering underfoot as the enemy launched himself after Zearaan.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. That the Human had been able to use the Neural Linkage in the first place had been a feat; another annoying similarity to Tsad Droten Zearaan was forced to admit. But even the mentally strongest of the prototype pilots had been able to use it for only so long. Only Zearaan had had his brain fortified to withstand the feedback the Neural Linkage eventually sent back; the stimuli of mechanical parts that no normal being had within them. The Human's body should have been completely overloaded trying to process it all. And yet, if anything, he seemed to have more control than the Linkage should have allowed. He was faster, more manoeuvrable, and stronger. A wrist blade deployed in defence, only for the wrist to be completely sliced through. He lay down covering fire, only for the enemy to dodge and weave through every bolt and blast.

"You insolent little  _worm_!" Zearaan was forced to cast his shield aside to stop the blade from taking the rest of the arm with it. "You think you can challenge me!?"

The enemy Ca'furor drew its' second sword in response, getting in close, a storm of blades forcing Zearaan upwards and back towards the Ge'tal Kyr'am. With every movement, the light from under its plates only glowed ever brighter. The Ca'furor was overloading, systems not strengthened for extended use being pushed to the brink. Zearaan knew all he had to do was keep out of range until the Human burned his Beskar'ad out.

Were actions as easy as words.

"What is this going to accomplish!?" He managed to take out an arm with a blast of energised plasma and yet still the Human pursued. "You cannot win, your home will be wiped out no matter what you do, so why!? Why. Won't. You. Die!?"

The Ca'furor got too close and received a rifle butt to the face plate for its' pilot's trouble. It lost a leg as he fell back, sheared off by Zearaan's energy bolt to the kneecap, and still the Human gave chase. Up the Ge'tal Kyr'am's side, cutting through targeting arrays and thrusters assemblies in its' path. Through the petal armoured plates, past the pylons now on the brink of a full charge and back out into the open sky. Still the Human followed.

"This changes nothing!" Energy plasma cannons deployed, only for the barrels to be sliced into as the Ca'furor screamed by. "Even if you could defeat me and destroy the Ge'tal Kyr'am, it would all be for nothing! Humans and Tsad Droten will be forever at each other's throats! It is our way! You cannot stop it!"

 _"Maybe…"_ the Human croaked as his Ca'furor arced around once more,  _"but we'll have a better chance to try without you."_

Zearaan saw the plan too late, a panic flitting through his mind as the Human's Beskar'ad plummeted. He tried to move, tried to flee, but a thrown sword lodged itself in the thrusters of the wing assembly, blowing him a few feet and no further.

The Ca'furors collided with a bone-rattling crash, alarms shrieking as Zearaan was forced down towards the Earth. Through static and crimson light, the enemy Beskar'ad seemed to grin white light through the crack in its faceplate, exposed cameras flaring like demonic eyes through the fractured visor. His remaining fingers dug into the shoulder armour of Zearaan's machine, thrusters aiding gravity to push them ever faster towards the ground.

No, not the ground. The Ge'tal Kyr'am.

Fury overwhelmed fear, his Beskar'ad's fists, both with hand and ruined stump, slammed into the enemy's head again and again. What thrusters he had left tried to change course, but even as the head splintered into shrapnel and the two machines spun through the air, the Human managed to keep them on course.

"No! NO!  **NO!** " his own fist slammed into the monitors, mimicking his Ca'furor's movements as he tried to tear the enemy off piece by piece. "I WILL NOT DIE HERE! YOU WILL NOT OUTLIVE ME! "NI RI AL'VERDE ZEARAAN BAL NI MAV NAAS-"

 _"You should have thought about that before you came to a battlefield."_  the Human laughed as the Ge'tal Kyr'am filled Zearaan's rear-view cameras.  _"Didn't you know? You're a soldier now. And this…this is an occupational hazard."_

For a moment, Zearaan couldn't speak, couldn't curse, and knew he couldn't escape. All he could do was watch as the Ge'tal Kyr'am dominated his screens, his Beskar'ad's intelligence trying desperately to make him see the hazard he had no power to avoid. All he could do was slump in his seat, fear and terror clenching in his chest as a single word made it past his jagged teeth.

"Haar'chak."

The Beskar'ads hit. The Ge'tal Kyr'am screamed as one of its pylons was torn from its moorings. There was pain, heat, a blistering white light. Zearaan knew no more as his very being was torn apart, his mouth open in a silent scream as it vanished into the Ge'tal Kyr'am's blast.

* * *

Astrid felt her blood run cold, her breath hitch in her throat. She thought she should scream, shout his name for all the good it would do her. Her mouth merely hung open in silent horror as she watched Alex and Zearaan's Night Fury's plummet into the heart of the Ge'tal Kyr'am.

The effect was instant. Fire and heat erupted, more explosions blooming across the weapon's hull as it listed to one side. The Ge'tal Kyr'am could no longer fire, and now all that energy had nowhere to go.

Except outward.

What thrusters fired carried the weapon upwards, smoke trailing as its top blazed like a torch. Perhaps the crew was trying to escape, perhaps systems were firing off at random as the weapon slowly died. Whatever the reason, it came to an end quickly.

In an instant, the Ge'tal Kyr'am erupted into a fiery inferno. Astrid was blown off her feet as a second sun flared into being in the bay. For the second time that day, she screamed as she tumbled head over heels, spots dancing across her vision with the whirlwind of sand and debris kicked up by the blast. And for the second time that day, something cold and metallic plucked her out of the air, massive fingers closing around her to keep her safe.

Astrid looked up, and saw the glowing green band of a Night Fury's visor staring down at her.

"Alex?"

_"Hastrid!"_

"Ruusaan…" disappointment was quickly overrun by confusion. "What are you…? How are you here? Where's-"

_"Halp me!"_

Astrid froze, her heart beating too fast in her chest. This wasn't Alex's Night Fury. It couldn't have been. And yet, Ruusaan was piloting it and she hadn't heard a word out of Alex. Which could only mean…

"Ruusaan," her voice felt fearfully tight, "where's Alex?"

The Night Fury didn't respond, save to pull her up to its chest and cockpit hatch.

 _"Halp me,"_  Ruusaan's voice said.  _"Halp me find hym."_

* * *

It was quiet, so Sarah 'Waif' Andrews thought. Deathly so, really. What light seeped into the debris cloud from the Ge'tal Kyr'am's destruction was fading now, leaving the beaches in a swirling mess of sand and gloominess.

Waif was surprised, and maybe a little proud, that she had managed to stay flying until the very end. Her Nadder had been caught in the final blast, but even then she'd managed to bring it down in one piece. Sure, she would need a lift back to The Dome, and the fact her radio was out would hamper that plan until the dust settled, but she could wait. She was safe. She had survived.

And then, she heard the crying.

Her radio had been destroyed, but her cameras and external mics were still intact. She hadn't been sitting quietly for more than a minute before they'd picked up the sniffles and a dark shape in the clouds.

Maybe it was dangerous. Maybe it was fatigue playing tricks on her. Whatever the sound was, it sounded like whatever was making it was in trouble. So she popped the hatch, pistol raised, and approached the shape in the cautious quiet.

Her cameras hadn't lied. A small figure sat curled up in the damp sand. She looked like a girl, her dirty blonde hair and stained white dress caked in grit and sea salt. She looked like a child, her small body drenched and shivering. But when she flinched at the oncoming footsteps, and turned a pale tearstained face towards the approaching Waif, it would have been plain to anyone that she didn't look Human. Bright blue slit-pupiled eyes blinked at her, a watery smile revealing small yet sharp teeth.

"Mesh'la…"

Waif smiled, forcing the corners of her mouth upwards despite her unease. This was a Dragonoid, sure, but she wasn't a soldier, not as far as Waif could see. And she was obviously scared (Waif being something of an expert on the subject). The Ge'tal Kyr'am's blast had probably separated her from her parents, and with clouds of debris still swirling around them, it was easy to see why the little one was so distraught. Waif kept her smile as she knelt down, the Dragonoid's never leaving her as she holstered her pistol.

"Sarah," she said, tapping a fist against her chest as Alex had taught them.

The Dragonoid sniffed, sitting up a little straighter as she mirrored the gesture. "Juuniis."

"Juuniis," Waif nodded. "Vaabir gar linibar gaa'taylir?"

_Do you need help?_

The tears threatened to flow as Juuniis nodded. "Ori'vod. Ni nuhaatyc mar'eyir kaysh. K-kaysh ganar aht akaanir, a-al ni vaabir'naas coplanar kaysh aht akaanir j-jorcu Hallex b-bal Hastrid-"

It was too much. Waif wrapped the girl up in a warm embrace as tears fell and words dissolved into miserable sobs. Small hands clenched against her pilot armour, Juuniis burying her head into Waif's shoulder as she quietly soothed her fears. Alex's crash course in the Dragonoid language was basic at best, but mar'eyir, find, stuck out to her now. Juuniis was lost and looking for someone. Waif found it ironic that she could relate.

"Shh, it's alright," she soothed and rocked, a hand gently stroking the young girl's hair. "Ni mav gaa'taylir gar."

_I will help you._

She felt Juuniis nod, her arms coming around Waif's neck as she stood, carrying her. Yesterday, she might have thought it an odd sight, and evil sight. Today though, right now, after everything that had happened, Waid hope that scenes like this, of Humans and Dragonoids helping each other, would become more commonplace in the future.

* * *

"Hiccup, this is Valkyrie, come in. Hiccup, this is Valkyrie, please respond."

The dust cloud was dispersing now, swirling low against the ocean and pooling around the  _Rock_  like an island in a misty sea. The sky above was clear weather-wise, the clouds vaporised by the Ge'tal Kyr'am's destruction and only Dragonoids left being from The Dome or those who had rebelled.

And yet, no matter how hard Astrid looked, she couldn't see any sign of Alex's Night Fury.

The soldier in her didn't want to be surprised, as small a voice as it was these days. The Ge'tal Kyr'am itself was gone, largely atomised by the energy build-up, the outer hull blasted into shrapnel and littering the beaches or burning up as it fell back down from where it had been thrown into the atmosphere. Alex had been at the heart of the explosion. Nothing else had survived. Why should his Night Fury have been any different?

And yet, Astrid kept looking, searching the sea and sky for him. Any any time she start to doubt, started to believe it was hopeless to keep searching-

"Mhi mav mar'eyir kaysh."

_We will find him._

…Ruusaan always got her mind back on track.

"You're right. Serim." she turned back to her screens with a sigh. "He's got to be out here. A guy like that's too stubborn to die…"

But then again, the same had been said about his father.

Astrid shook her head, banishing such thoughts as she turned her radio back on. "Hiccup, this is Valkyrie, please- Shit!"

She cursed, Ruusaan muttering murder under her breath as a large chunk of debris bounced off the Fury's hull. Most of the debris that had been blown up into the stratosphere hadn't been much bigger than a suitcase, streaking the sky with red and burning up before it hit the ground. Some of the larger pieces weren't breaking up so easily, however, and as more time passed, flying was becoming more of a hazard.

"Di'kutla duse!" mutinous mutterings came from the pilot's seat. "Hastrid, Chack aboff. Parth klear?"

"Checking," Astrid spun her cameras skyward, grimacing at the streaks of red against the blue. "Nayc, path not clear. Course correct eighteen degrees west to…"

She stared. She checked her readings, then checked them again just to be sure desperation wasn't playing tricks on her eyes.

"Ruusaan…"

"Meg la bic? La te draar utrel'a-"

"Look up. Mes utrel'a"

She saw Ruusaan frown in the monitor's reflection, and then saw her eyes widen as she pointed her own cameras above them.

It had probably been one of the Ge'tal Kyr'am's emitters, its underside scorched clean of broken moorings and frayed circuitry by re-entry. That it had not only survived the explosion but also the fall through the atmosphere was amazing in itself, but that wasn't why it had caught Astrid's attention. It was what had been attached to it, and what had fallen away from it as Ruusaan had looked her cameras up.

"Hallex!"

The Night Fury shifted, transforming into its Humanoid form as Ruusaan was bathed in blue. Astrid was forced back into her chair as they rocketed upwards, her eyes never leaving what could only be the wreck of Alex's Night Fury.

Its' armour was dented and scorched. Its' head was missing and only one of its' arms was fully intact. Even then, several of the fingers had fused together where it had grabbed the emitter's side and melted in the heat of re-entry. Its' wings were twisted and bent, thrusters firing feebly to try and slow the descent.

"Hallex! Hallex!"

The radio was silent as the two Furys met, Ruusaan managing to match the falling mech's speed. It fell with its' back to the ground, what was left of its' limbs flailing uselessly in the air, keeping them from getting too close.

Astrid touched her radio. "Hiccup, this is Valkyrie, come in."

More silence, and the Earth was getting closer.

"Dammit Alex! Respond! Don't get this far just to trip at the last hurdle!"

More silence. Her throat burned.

"Please Alex! You…you promised me, remember? You promised nothing would go wrong. You have to respond, don't you!?"

More silence, and with it her vision blurred with tears.

"Please Alex, don't leave me too."

…

"Hallex," Ruusaan spoke softly, the Fury's hand held out, "olaror norac aht mhi."

More silence. The ruined Fury's hand flailed listlessly in the air, and then grabbed Ruusaan's outstretched limb.

Astrid jumped at the sound of metal on metal, Ruusaan giving a startled gasp as she almost automatically drew him in.

"Ni ganar kaysh. N-ni ganar kaysh!"

Astrid barely heard her. She was already out of her harness and chair as Ruusaan slowed their decent. She popped open the hatch before Ruusaan could stop her. Wind whipped against her face as she jumped the gap without a care for the long drop below. She found the emergency release and wrenched it down, the hatch opening with an angry hiss as she ducked through into the darkened cockpit beyond. Where Alex was waiting for her.

The cockpit was dead. Even the AI's light had gone out. A body lay slumped against the safety harness, hands still clenched around the control sticks, a spider web of cracks spread across the faceplate.

Alex's body.

Astrid hesitated, then stepped up to the chair. Her hands grasped his shoulders, and dread seeped into her chest when we didn't flinch or moan in pain. She moved down to his fingers and found her panic rising when she found them stiff, refusing to give up their grip. Now taking all of her effort not to panic outright, Astrid's hands tore at the harness and shook as she fumbled with the releases on the front plate of Alex's pilot armour. She cast it aside without a second thought, ripping her helmet from her head as she knelt down and pressed an ear to his chest.

One agonising second passed. Then another. Then she heard it; soft and faint, yet rhythmic and constant.

The comforting pulsing of a Human heartbeat.

Vision watered, her throat burning around a lump that made it hard to swallow. Fingers tightened around a fistful of his pilot suit as Astrid's tears stained the fabric.

He was alive. The Night Fury had brought Alex back to her alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Dajun?"  
> (Plan?)
> 
> "Naasad vaii mhi k'oyacyi oyacyir."  
> (None where we stay alive.)
> 
> "Hallex! Meg copaani gar mirdira!?"  
> (Alex! What are you thinking!?)
> 
> "Majyce di'kutla!"  
> (Something stupid!)
> 
> "Tracyn tion'tuur ni sirbur!"  
> (Fire when I say!)
> 
> "Jii! Tracyn jii!"  
> (Now! Fire now!)
> 
> "Ibic shabuir linibar aht ash'amur."  
> (This bastard needs to die.)
> 
> "Meg la bic? Ni vaabir'naas ganar ca'nara aht-"  
> (What is it? I don't have time to-)
> 
> "Ni linibar gar'ra miit."  
> (I need your word)
> 
> "Hiibir ulur beh solus ashi."  
> (Take care of each other.)
> 
> "Meg copaani gar jorhaa'ir? Ni vaabir'naas-"  
> (What are you saying? I don't-)
> 
> "Ret'urcye,"  
> (Goodbye.)
> 
> ….jare'la shabuir!  
> (…oblivious bastard!)
> 
> …jaro…  
> (death wish)
> 
> "NI RI AL'VERDE ZEARAAN BAL NI MAV NAAS-"  
> (I AM HIGH SUPERIOR ZEARAAN AND I WILL NOT-)
> 
> "Haar'chak."  
> (Damn it.)
> 
> "Mesh'la…"  
> (Pretty…)
> 
> "Vaabir gar linibar gaa'taylir?"  
> (Do you need help?)
> 
> "Ori'vod. Ni nuhaatyc mar'eyir kaysh. Kaysh ganar aht akaanir, al ni vaabir'naas coplanar kaysh aht akaanir jorcu Hallex bal Hastrid-"  
> (Big brother. I can't find him. He had to fight, but I didn't want him to fight because Alex and Astrid-)
> 
> "Ni mav gaa'taylir gar."  
> (I will help you.)
> 
> "Mhi mav mar'eyir kaysh."  
> (We will find him.)
> 
> "Serim."  
> (Correct.)
> 
> "Di'kutla duse!"  
> (Worthless junk!)
> 
> "Nayc,"  
> (Negative,)
> 
> "Meg la bic? La te draar utrel'a-"  
> (What is it? Is the way clear-)
> 
> "Mes utrel'a."  
> (Look up.)
> 
> "olaror norac aht mhi."  
> (Come back to us.)
> 
> "Ni ganar kaysh. Ni ganar kaysh!"  
> (I have him. I have him!)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> Over my word limit again today. Head over to: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6488447/16/Dragonoid for the full Author's Notes.
> 
> That's all for today. Next week will be the final chapter. It also might be delayed slightly, as I've got appointments to keep around 4:00pm (GMT) that will probably keep me from uploading around 5:00pm. Hopefully it might just be delayed by an hour or two, but barring any unforeseen circumstances it will definitely be the usual day.
> 
> See you next time!


	17. Final Section: Into The Future

**FINAL SECTION**

**INTO THE FUTURE**

_DATE: UNKNOWN_

_TIME: UNKNOWN_

_LOCATION: UNKNOWN_

I was alive. Yay.

And another unfamiliar ceiling. Less yay.

It was a Human looking ceiling though; all pocketed white tiles for as far as I could see.

So…yay. I guess.

But I was alive. That was the important thing. And all limbs and senses functioning. Mostly. Always a bonus. I just wished everything didn't ache with every little movement. Even blinking felt like more effort that it should have been. My brain felt like it had been mulched by a blender and then poured back into my skull to make my head swim as I slowly sat up in what I guessed was a hospital bed. It certainly looked like a hospital room. When it wasn't spinning that is. A private room too, with pastel colours and sunshine streaming through an open window. All very civilian, not like the military sick bay I'd found myself in the last time I'd woken up.

…

I hoped this didn't become a habit.

I managed to sit up without being ill, taking in the empty quiet with as little movement as possible.

No guards, not in here anyway. Did that mean I didn't need protection? Judging by the lack of handcuffs this time around I hadn't been arrested by whoever was now in charge…

Now in charge…

Dad.

Dad was gone, wasn't he? Died doing…what? Trying to save me? Kill the leader of his most hated enemy? Whatever his reason, Gregorio 'Stoic' McKrillen had died a soldier's death. An occupational hazard, he would have called it. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel. At the time I'd felt rage, agony, a desperate sadness to put it lightly. And while I was certain it was that cocktail of despair that had let me push the N-Link beyond its' normal limit, now I just felt tired.

How had The Dome reacted, I wondered. Stoic had died defending his people from the Dragonoid threat, but if he hadn't set off when he did, would he have needed to sacrifice his life at all? Then again, Zearaan and his Ge'tal Kyr'am had already been on their way when my secret had been found out. Was it for better or worse that they hadn't made it to The Dome? Would he have even needed to have gotten into RADAR range? Too many questions and not enough answers. Answers that I might not even ever find out.

Like I said, tired.

Not that I was going to get my answers here. Gingerly, I made to shuffle my legs out from under the tight sheets, only for something hard to clamp down on my knee.

I tried to yelp, then stopped when I realised I wasn't as alone as I'd thought.

The eyes of Ruusaan glowered at me over the top of her folded arm, the other outstretched, her fingers painfully tight around my leg. She looked as though she'd been sleeping here, with the dark rings around her eyes and hairs sticking out of her ponytail at off angles through the silver wire. She raised her head off her arm, revealing a humourless grin from a mouth full of knives.

"Found. Hyu. Aht. Laaaaaasssst."

…

Oh shit.

It hurt to smile, but I did my best as she dragged herself up the bed to my side. "Ruusaan! Hey! Hi, Ruusaan. Hi, Ruusaan. H-hi, Ruusaan." I coughed awkwardly. "Gar copaani…oyayc?"

Ruusaan snorted. "Shmart guy. Hyu tink hyu ah shmart guy  _und_ ah tough guy too?"

"Y-your English is getting better."

"Been practising," she smirked slightly. "Vanted hyu ta see how hangry Hy em, no qvestion. Hastrid halp."

I swallowed thickly. "Nice to see the two of you getting along-"

"Vat vere hyu tinking, Hallex?" her words stopped me cold as her smile disappeared into an angry frown. "Vho did hyu tink hyu vere saving?"

"I was trying to save you-"

"Did hyu tink Hy vanted ta be saved? Did hyu tink Hy vanted ta run like ah koward und send hyu uff ta die alone?"

"What!? No, I-"

She sat down on the side of the bed with a heavy thump, her eyes soft and never leaving mine as has her hand closed around my fingers. "Did hyu tink dat Hy vouldn't vant ta stand vith hyu, right ontil de very end?"

"No. Never." the words tumbled out without hesitation.

"Then why?"

Wasn't it obvious? I looked away from her gaze. "Because…I didn't want you to die."

I could feel her frowning at me. Was it really so hard to understand?

"Ruusaan, you're the first friend I've made in years. The first person since As-" I winced, "since I lost my mother. And on top of that, you're my friend, even after everything I did to you. I shot you down. Your pilot died because of me. You had every reason to want me dead, even before we met in the ruins…"

"Und den, hyu gav me reasons not to."

I blinked, turning back to stare at her in surprise. Ruusaan smiled softly, eyes downward at our clasped hands as she gave mine a reassuring squeeze.

"Vatever hyu did, Hy heve long since forgiven," she looked away, embarrassed. "Hy vas de enemy, Hallex. Hyu kould have killed me vere hyu found me. Even after hyu let me go, hyu kould heve gone back to De Dome und forgotten about me. Hy vould have died if hyu had. Even den, hyu healed me ven hyu kould have killed or taken me prisoner. Hyu tried to halp me home. Hyu hef done more den enough to be forgiven Hallex," she raised her gaze to mine, "und den zum."

"R-right. Right," I smiled back, my head feeling hazy. I shook it to clear it. "A-and that's why I didn't want you there. Zearaan was strong. Stupidly strong. I didn't think I'd come out of this alive, even if you'd been there with me. And it only takes one of us to use the N-Link." I gave her a wry smile," And I wanted to make sure you didn't have the same idea."

Ruusaan snorted. "Hy vas too busy finding firing sulutions to vorry about zumdding like dat."

She laughed nervously, telling me otherwise.

"Maybe you think I was being selfish," I continued. "Maybe you think I was being an idiot. Maybe you're right, but I didn't want you to die, Ruusaan. I was at the controls and you had to follow no matter where I went. That just wasn't fair. I didn't-"

A hand snaked around the back of my neck, my words dying in my throat as Ruusaan's closed eyes were suddenly all I could see. She was close.  _Too_ close. Her forehead was warm, pressed against mine, her breath cold against my skin. The hand that held mine was firm and painfully tight, almost as though she was afraid I might let go.

"It doesn't matter vere hyu go," she said softly, almost in a whisper. "It doesn't matter vat hyu do. It doesn' matter vho hyu love, und vho hyu lose. On every battlefield, on every venture. If de Universe iz vith you svord or against it. Hy vill alvays be at your back, Hallexsunder McKrillen. In dis life, und if de Universe vills, hall lives dat follow." Her eyes snapped open, vivid green dominating my vision as her voice took a dangerous tone. "So don't even  _try_ to leaff me behind again, McKrillen. Don't. Do it. Again."

I smiled nervously. "And if I do?"

"Drastik measures. Hy'll probably tak zumdding to shlow hyu down," eyes creased with a humorous grin, "like a leg."

I found myself grinning, joking (I hoped) threats of loss of limbs notwithstanding. I should have seen it coming. I should have known Ruusaan would hate to be left behind. Would it have made a difference, if she had been there with me? Maybe, maybe not. Did it even matter? We were both alive, that was what was important, right?

Now if she could just scoot back a bit before someone came in and got the wrong impress-

"Am I interrupting?"

I totally didn't squeak like Waif on helium. Neither did I try to scramble away like the elephant that had seen the mouse, banging my head against the wall in the process.

Astrid and Ruusaan say otherwise. They're liars.

Astrid stood in the doorway; leaning against the frame, arms folded. She seemed…calm. Too calm. And she was smiling, as though she found the sight of her boyfriend being so close to another girl amusing.

"Err…it's not what it lo-umph!"

Lips crashed against mine, the hand around my neck sliding up into my hair. Eyes stared half-lidded into mine, Ruusaan pressing up against me, mouth and body. I slipped down against the sheets in shock. Ruusaan followed me down, cradling my head as I tried to hold myself up on shaking elbows and her tongue slipped past jagged teeth and pale lips to play with its' counterpart, limp in my mouth.

I couldn't look away. I couldn't stop my heart from beating a mile a minute. I couldn't stop my face from burning up or blood rushing to places I really wished it wouldn't…

Time passed. How long, I couldn't tell you. Ruusaan pulled away, smiling softly.

The smile became a devilish grin as she stood and turned towards Astrid.

"It vas  _eksactly_ vat it looked like."

Astrid smirked and rolled her eyes, "I bet."

Ruusaan laughed as she headed for the door, a sway in her hips I knew hadn't been there in all the months I'd known her.

"Tag. Hyu are it," She slapped Astrid's offered hand in a low five before squeezing her shoulder. "Be gentle."

More eye rolls followed the Dragonoid out of the room, "Yes dear."

…

I'd just been kissed by my best friend…and my girlfriend was okay with it.

…

"I knew it, I'm dead."

Astrid laughed, coming to sit on the edge of the bed as I struggled to sit up and regain my senses. "No, but you gave it your best shot."

"You seem…okay about this. It's scaring me."

I got a grin for my concern. "Now you know how  _we_  felt. Besides, you've been out of it almost three weeks now. Gives people time to talk, you know?"

Three weeks? No wonder everything felt like lead.

I looked at Astrid warily. "Are you going to call me out on my idiotic heroics too?"

"Nah, I think Ruusaan made our point. That said…"

She slugged me. Hard. My ever loving childhood friend hit her infirm recently comatose boyfriend with enough force I swore my shoulder bones cracked.

"OW!"

There was no sympathy in her eyes. " _That's_ for scaring me."

"Wh-what!?" I stared at her, exasperated. "What is- What, is it always gonna be this way? I-is this going to be a thing now!? Because-"

…

Well, this was becoming a pleasant habit.

There wasn't as much force this time around, Astrid leaning in, cupping a hand to my cheek as she silenced my mouth with hers. Eyes fluttered shut as I let her lead, happy to enjoy the warmth spreading through every nerve.

It was over far too soon. Still, I couldn't help but match her smile. "I could get used to it."

Her smile was radiant, even as we lapsed into comfortable silence. I wanted to keep it there if I could. Other things were on my mind though. After everything that had happened, it had been a lousy time to fall into a coma for the aftermath.

"Astrid, what-"

"Not right now," she silenced my protests with a look. "I mean it, Alex. A lot has happened and you've just woken up. Just get some rest, okay? The Dome's not going to fall apart on us yet."

I tried to complain, tell her I was fine, but what adrenaline I'd been running on was running dry.

With my eyelids starting to feel like someone had tied weights to them, I shuffled back under the sheets. The need for sleep seeped back into my body as I felt Astrid squeeze my hand.

Just tell me one thing," I struggled to stay awake, but I had to know. "Did it work? Is there peace?"

I saw Astrid wince before dreamland took me back.

"Sort of."

* * *

_DATE: FEBRUARY 22, 251 A.D.E._

_TIME: 1420 HOURS_

_LOCATION: THE DOME, CENTRAL TOWER, DOME COUNCIL CHAMBER_

It would be another few weeks before the doctors would let me leave. Even then, it was wheelchair bound for anything longer than a walk across a room, at least for now. Even  _then_ , I was always under Ruusaan and/or Astrid's watchful gaze.

The N-Link had done a number on my nervous system. That the damage was repairable was a miracle in in itself. I had Tsad Droten medicine to thank for that. This apparently wasn't the first time someone had pushed Neural Linkage to its' limits. I would be up and about eventually. It was only a matter of time.

Not that the time since I'd woken up had been boring, not with the endless stream of visitors that had poured through my door.

Patrick, Henrik and the twins were the most frequent, as was Gobber sticking his head in to hide from the nurses and their needles and to steal my jello. They all had their battle scars. Most would heal in time. Gobber needed a few repairs to his mechanical parts, but that was nothing new.

What  _was_  new was some of the other people who came to visit. Mayor Gothi was an obvious one, sharing congratulations and commiserations in equal measures. A few other politicians and friends of my father also stopped by to do the same.

But it was when the faces became completely 'alien' that I began to realise how things had started to change.

Waif's visits were always accompanied by the excited squeals of Juuniis and the embarrassed apologies of her brother Jaedaar when she jumped on my bed. The little Tsad Droten was always eager to show me the new English words Waif had taught her or talk about the new sights of The Dome she had seen. Waif herself usually stood off to one side, smiling at Juuniis' energy and blushing whenever Jaedaar praised her for something or other.

It wasn't just them, either. Tsad Droten, vetted by the Military Police, from all walks of life came to see me. Some on their own, some in groups large enough to spill into the corridor, they all had words for me, be it via translation matrix or horribly broken English. Most were of thanks, a few were of sorrow. Some asked if there might have been a better way to end the fighting, but all agreed that they were relieved the fighting was over.

Mostly.

It took time, but I managed to pry the whole story out of Ruusaan and Astrid. Not everyone was happy to forgive and forget, or even believe, on both sides.

As I had seen during the battle, some Tsad Droten had fled when the  _Ruus_  had fallen, and many more had escaped following Zearaan's death. Even now, some that had initially taken our hospitality now fled with whatever supplies they could carry.

And there were Humans who were no better. So-called 'Loyalists' to Stoic had fled during or shortly after the battle, with hundreds following their lead from The Dome as the first Dragonoid envoys had arrived. On top of what Tsad Droten were stealing, military supplies had also been disappearing from the outposts and armouries.

From two factions had splintered many of various sizes. All of them labelled those that stayed behind as traitors and enemies of their respective races. For them, the war was far from over. We were just lucky that, for the moment, they were in the minority.

One of the first symbols of unity our fragile peace had created had been tentative cooperation between the Military Police and the Aranov Vu'traat, the  _Ruus'_  military arm. Nothing had been set in stone, of course, but since the battle the two forces had worked together with little tension. Or so I'd been told.

Human Vikings patrolled the ground around The Dome and the wreck of the  _Ruus_ , while Tsad Droten Dragonoids watched the skies over each. Translation matrixes had been installed on all machines, technicians smarter than me reconfiguring them for two way communication, breaking the barriers down further.

And then there was the biggest change: the sight of Humans and Dragonoids living together.

With the destruction of the Ge'tal Kyr'am, and most of her engines along with it, it was clear the  _Ruus beh Tsad Droten_ would never fly again. There was no way to even get it upright, the power core lost with the weapon it had been forced to fuel. The Dome, by comparison, had escaped mostly unscathed. The Ge'tal Kyr'am attack had been off by miles, shockwaves and earthquakes doing more damage to the outposts and the training arena than The Dome itself. With space freed up by those who called us traitors, it made sense to house who we could in the empty homes. Of course, The Dome was only so big. Even in addition to most families trying to take in who they could into their spare rooms, a large percentage of Tsad Droten now lived in makeshift towns around The Dome's perimeter. Food thankfully wasn't an issue. A mobile fortress had been sent to recover the fishing fleets and food processing tech from Washington Crater, and the agriculture facilities from the  _Ruus_  had been salvaged and set up in conjunction with our farms. People were talking about what to do of course. The most popular idea seemed to be to salvage the  _Ruus_  to build extensions to The Dome, or perhaps new settlements entirely. Nothing was concrete though, not this early into the peace. First, we had to make sure it would last; that Human and Tsad Droten could put the past behind and walk together into the future.

And if the sight before me was an indication, we were off to a good start.

The Council Chamber was packed; political and military representatives from both sides sat together on their balconies, while the guest galleries were filled with civilians from both the  _Ruus_  and The Dome. In front of the Council Table, Mayor Gothi stood waiting for me, Gobber, the current head of the Military Police on one side, Jaedaar, the 'leader' of the remaining Tsad Droten on the other.

They stood there, waiting as the band's song came to an end and a hush fell over the chamber.

Waiting for me, Astrid and Ruusaan as we came to a stop before the Council Table.

They had been wanting to do this when I woke up. I just hoped it wouldn't be too long. My legs were already starting to ache.

Gothi smiled down at us, then turned to the crowds.

"Three hundred Earth standard years ago, Humans discovered we were not alone in the universe," she began, her words translated via headset for those that needed it. "Fifty years later, a mistake was made. A mistake fueled by paranoia of the unknown, fear of the unknown, and deception  _from_  the unknown. It was a mistake made by both Humans and Tsad Droten. But over the past few months, it has been a mistake that has been  _rectified_  by Humans and Tsad Droten."

 **"Hallexsunder McKrillen, Ruusaan, child of Vaikaar and Raaneer, Hastrid Hofferson,"**  Jaedaar continued, his words translated by my headset.  **"The three of you accomplished something no citizen of either The Dome or the** _ **Rock of The Assembled**_   **could ever believe could ever be done. You worked together. You found a common ground. You saw the similarities, that our species were not so different as the rest of us thought. And when the question was put before you, you listened when we ignored."**

"So taday, we honour ye," Gobber went on. "Sergeant Astrid Hofferson, fer yer part, most notably leadin' our Dragonoid forces during the Battle o' Newquay, Ah am hereby promoting ye four tiers to the rank o' Captain an' all the privileges therein."

This time last year, she might have been ecstatic to be promoted so quickly, and before her mandatory service was up too. Right now though, Astrid looked less than thrilled as people applauded and Gobber pinned bars to her chest. After everything we'd been through, after everything we'd seen, I could hardly blame her for blanching at the thought of extending her military career.

 **"Youth Ruusaan,"**  Jaedaar stepped forward,  **"For your acts of valour, to stand against your own people in order to open their eyes, we recognise you as worthy of command. When the need arises, the youths can look to you, and know you have the right to be called Superior."**

Ruusaan did her best to smile, grasping Jaedaar's arms at the elbows as he did the same while more applause followed.

We didn't want this. None of us wanted this. So why-

"And lastly, 2nd Lieutenant Alexander McKrillen," Gothi spoke once more. "Through your actions, a centuries-old war has come to an end between its main factions. You,  _all_  of you, have done so much, and we have so little with which to repay you.

"Therefore, you are hereby promoted three tiers to the rank of major, with all the privileges therein."

I faltered, eyes wide as a much louder applause thundered amidst the pillars. "M-major?"

"Oh aye, lad," Gobber gave me a wink as he pinned the bars to my chest. "Ye gonna need it, what we've got planned for ye."

Major. Major Alexander McKrillen. My dad would have been jumping for joy, had the circumstances for such a promotion been far, far different. Even Astrid and Ruusaan were staring at the three grinning lunatics as though they'd fused together and grown extra heads.

It was too much. It was  _way_  too much power.

"We realise this is a lot of responsibility," Gothi continued, apparently oblivious to the understatement of the year, "especially for one who has not yet completed his mandatory service. It's necessary for your assignment however, once you've made a full recovery."

Assignment?

 **"Those that fled, those that exiled themselves. They are not the first to leave The Dome or the Rock,"** Jaedaar looked on gravely.  **"Some were exiled for speaking out against the war. Others left of their own volition to start colonies of their own."**

"There's also those who didn't want ta join The Dome," Gobber added. "We might've been the largest threat, but we weren't the only humans left. They'll be others out there, hiding from a foe tha's no longer 'unting 'em."

"And we want  _you_  to find them," Gothi finished with a smile.

I blinked at her stupidly. "Find them?"

"Find them, help them, protect them if needs be. You, Major McKrillen, are being tasked with the command of the 1st Joint Exploration Task Force. You, with Hofferson and Ruusaan as your seconds, will lead men and women of both the Military Police and the Aranov Vu'traat to scour the Earth for those lost settlements. You will be our first contact, our first open gesture towards opening communication and trade. Our first step towards the recolonisation of our world."

"Not everyone's gonna be 'appy ta see ye though," Gobber grimaced. "Even without the latest outcasts, some ain't gonna be best pleased ta see an end ta the fighting."

 **"That is why you will be protected,"** holograms lit up the chamber from the Council table's emitter as Jaedaar spoke.  **"You shall be given a** _ **Saint George**_ **-class Mobile Fortress to be your base of operations, Viking Assault Frames for land patrols, and Dragonoids to watch over the skies."**

I watched the holograms in awe, not really knowing what to say. A ship, a crew, Vikings, and…

"Night Furies?"

 **"Our most versatile machines,"**  Jaedaar grinned.  **"A flight will also be modified for partial Human use. A Human pilot, with a Tsad Droten co-pliot at his back."**

So, I could still fly? I could still fly with Ruusaan and Astrid?

And this assignment…We weren't being sent to another battlefield. This was a mission of peace. A mission to unite and rebuild. I felt Ruusaan squeeze my shoulder and saw Astrid grin out of the corner of my eye.

We could do this. This could change everything.

"Ye look like ye mulling something fierce, Alex." Gobber smirked. "Any questions need askin'?"

"Just one," I grinned, matched by Ruusaan and Astrid beside me. "When do we start?"

(…)

" _I know you're listening. I know you have every right to be wary._

_My name is Alexander, and I want to tell you what's happened._

_The war is over, between The Dome and Dragonoids of Washington Crater at least. There's a lot to explain, because I know it's a lot to take in and even harder to believe. But we're willing to talk, if you're willing to listen._

_And that's the question, isn't it?_

_Will you listen?"_

_\- - -JORAD KYR- - -  
_ _\- - -  
_ _\- - -JORHAA'IR?- - -_

_:KIR'MANIR BAL JORHAA'IR: MHI MAV SUSHIR_

_\- - -JORHAA'RE:- - -_

_\ \ \WE WILL LISTEN/ / /_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand roll credits. Something classy like...I dunno, 'Gotta Stay Fly' from Ace Combat: Assault Horizon? Yeah. That'll do. Ooh! with 'Bull's Eye' by Nano for the Alternative Foreign Theme Song!
> 
> Dragonoid Translations
> 
> "Gar copaani…oyayc?"  
> (You are…alive?)
> 
> Aranov Vu'traat  
> (Defence Forces)
> 
> JORAD KYR  
> (TRANSMISSION END)
> 
> JORHAA'IR?  
> (REPLY?)
> 
> KIR'MANIR BAL JORHAA'IR: MHI MAV SUSHIR  
> (TRANSLATE AND REPLY: WE WILL LISTEN)
> 
> JORHAA'RE  
> (REPLYING)
> 
> Author's Notes
> 
> Ambiguity was the name of the game today. Tying up loose ends of the story I wanted to tell while leaving the implication that the adventures will continue. A lot of this stemmed from the original idea in my head to adapt the sequel films and/or the TV series, but as I'll talk about in my final notes below that isn't likely to happen now. What I aimed for instead was cautious optimism. Yeah, it's not the perfect happy ending, but there's the potential there, and people willing to work for it. That's a good end in my book, and I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> And Alex didn't lose a leg! Isn't he lucky? I decided to let him keep the limb as I always thought Hiccup's leg lose was supposed to be symbolic and/or symmetric to Toothless losing part of his tail. That didn't really work here though, as Ruusaan never lost any limbs and the Night Fury's main damage was the loss of its' original AI. I just didn't see the point, and to lose a limb without that narrative aspect just felt like injecting drama into the end of the story that it just didn't need.
> 
> Returning to ambiguity...yeah, I'm a bit of a coward, leaving the whole Alex/Astrid/Ruusaan relationship as I have. You can blame the anime Classroom Crisis for the idea, except Alex didn't try to escape the hospital when he realised he had two girls after his heart. For the record, Ruusaan kissing Alex was written in before the whole Shippping 'skirmish' back in Section 011. I added it to appease the shipper in me, as even at this point I was still wondering if I should go back and change everything. In the end, I hope I've left it ambiguous enough for you the reader to draw your own conclusions on what Astrid and Ruusaan talked about and how the three's relationship develops after the end of the story.
> 
> Lastly, we've got the whole' the adventure continues!' aspect at the end. As I implied last week, my original idea for the ending was a Star Wars: A New Hope-esque medal ceremony (This was back in 2011, before Dragons: Riders of Berk came out.). The ending was a little more of that perfect ending type stuff I was talking about earlier too. The war was over, Humans and Dragonoids were united on the path of peace, Stoic was alive and had had a complete about face on his views, that sort of thing. Alex, Ruusaan and Astrid got their medals, and Alex looks over the cheering crowds as he monologues something akin to a more positive version of what he said in the prologue. The story would have ended with Astrid taking Alex's hand and the two kissing as the cheers went up as we cut to black. I...was a lot more cheesy back then.
> 
> If there's one thing I don't like, but wasn't really sure how to implement otherwise, it was Alex and Astrid's rapid promotions (Ruusaan gets a free pass because of the alien ranking system). It came about due to the new ending taking inspiration from Hiccup taking command of the Dragon Riders and forming the Dragon Academy from the initial episodes of the series, and I felt that the trio would need fairly high ranks to have the authority equivalent Hiccup does as Stoick's son. I also admittedly wanted a grand gesture to finish the story with, but I'm just not sure if this was the right move, or if there's an alternative that would look better. If I'd continued the series of adaptions, I would probably have it explained that the loss of experienced soldiers from both sides due to the battle and desertion meant they needed to bolster the upper ranks, and any sequels would have them retain these ranks for the future (Alex wouldn't have become General of the Military Police at the end of Dragonoid 2 for example.), but without those to fall back on, I just think it feels a bit...convenient.
> 
> Anyway, what's been written has been written, and overall it's a minor issue in what for me has been a massive project.
> 
> Please go to https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6488447/17/Dragonoid if you would like to read my Final Author's Notes, .
> 
> Thank you for reading Dragonoid. I hope you enjoyed it and it was worth the recommendation that got it completed.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> With best regards,
> 
> Dearing


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